


Sent from Above (Whether you like it or not)

by MinorPoltergeist



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Angels and Demons, Attempt at Humor, Cultural Differences, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, For the most part at least, Heck Im probably going to hell too because of this, Hell, Interspecies Romance, Light-Hearted, Minor Violence, Oof it gets kind of dark in certain parts but its going to get better I promise, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Reader Insert, Reader can see right through him though, Reader goes by she/her, Reader is a Sweetheart, Reader is an Angel (both figuratively and literally), Reader-Interactive, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes, Takes place post game, The Devil is a Sneaky Bastard, The Devil is an asshole tbh, Well its more enemies to 'what are we' to lovers, Worldbuilding, You progressively get more and more sick of his shit, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 11:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 72,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13053447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinorPoltergeist/pseuds/MinorPoltergeist
Summary: You wake up one day with no memories of your past in the house of a kind old kettle and a pair of cups.You honestly have no idea whats going on, though the wings and halo are pretty neat.Though, the fact that the island has a casino owned by the literal Devil is slightly less neat. Even less neat is the fact he doesn't seem very fond of you.





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no explanation for this other than it being self indulgent and might as well practicing writing with none other than this.
> 
> Hoo boy to tell you the truth I'm honestly incredibly flustered right now so please just take this.

Your head hurt. Quite badly, you’d say. Bad enough for you to open up your eyes from the blissful sleep you were in. Well, maybe not as blissful as you thought; even with the headache you feel pretty groggy.

You slowly blinked your eyes, your eyelids heavy from sluggishness. Quickly you regretted it when you felt the harsh light hit your sensitive eyes, and you felt a tiny whimper slip from your throat. Goodness, your headache seemed to grow worse.

Still, you slowly sat up, blinking your eyes in the meantime as you felt the sheets covering you untangle themselves. You paused, your previously sleepy eyes taking in the sight. You were tightly tucked in a small bed that you were fairly certain wasn’t yours. At least, you think it’s not yours.

The bed itself was a bit plain, yet you felt comfortable sitting in it. The sheets were a slightly faded white, most likely due to age, while the thick covers were a soft yellow with a red checkered pattern. 

You were not one for interior decorating, but you were fairly certain that the colors seemed to fit a child’s bedroom better, yet the room suggested otherwise, and you were certain that you're not a child. 

Blinking, you slowly began to take in your surroundings as you contined to ignore the head-splitting ache in your skull. Now that you thought about it, you were fairly certain this room wasn’t yours, either. Just where exactly were you?

You moved your hand up to your head, wincing slightly from the pain as you continued your little scan.

Overall, the room was a bit plain, just like the bed, but it gave off a very homey air to it. The walls were a beige color and didn’t hold many decoration on them other than a few hanging picture frames here and there. All of the pictures had the same three people in them; an old, what seemed to be sentient tea kettle with a bushy white mustache with two smaller sentient cups besides him. One who seemed fond of the color red and a look of mischief in his eye, and the other seemed to favor blue and had a gentle smile on his face.

You continued your sweep around the room, taking note of the antique-looking dresser that held some more portraits and a few large potted plants scattered around the room here and there. There was a bookshelf that looked stuffed to the brim from its contents, as there were a few books that layed on top the shelf. Well, the owner certainly seemed fond of reading, you found yourself noting. 

Right next to the bookshelf was a large window that had the curtains drawn, allowing the light to flood the room and your senses. You winced and quickly looked away, the ache lingering. 

Continuing on, nothing else really stood out to you. Everything else just seemed like plain furniture that didn’t really hold much meaning to you. Though, you soon catch sight of a large and broad mirror hanging on the wall next to the door of the room, and you soon found yourself shuffling your way over to it despite the pain in your head.

The sight that greeted you when you made it to your destination was a surprising one, but it felt welcome. Overall, you knew it was you in the mirror, but you still couldn’t help but feel incredibly confused as you continued to take in everything.

You wore a once pristine white suit jacket that had deep grass and dirt stains, most likely permanently ruining the fabric, with a shiny, slightly gaudy golden pin on the lapel of the jacket. You felt yourself wondering how it still seemed perfectly fine despite the banged up state of your jacket. Another glint from the light caused you to notice the golden necklace that loosely dangled around your neck, a cross gently swaying on the golden chain around your neck. 

Your bottom half wasn’t exactly the best either, as you noticed the equally messed up white knee-length skirt that hugged your hips (you flushed slightly at this detail) was torn in many places, as well as the sheer stockings that covered your legs.

Though, the stockings may as well have been threads in the sorry state they were in.

The exposed areas of your legs were covered in a large array of tiny scratches and bruises that didn't prompt much concern, though the large bandage wrapped section of your calf was a bit concerning. Actually, you think you should feel alot more concerned at the sight of that, but oddly enough you felt oddly calm as your eyes continued to trail up your form.

Your hands were clad in a pair of slightly frilled white gloves that felt like they belonged on a beautifully dressed doll. Though, they probably didn’t now considering they were torn, showing off the tender flesh of your palm.

You trailed your stare up over to your head, and everything seemed to be in order, despite your hair being incredibly disheveled and the bandage firmly wrapped around your head. Though, you have to admit, the glowing ring floating above it was a bit of a surprise.

Actually, the large, feathered wings protruding from your back was a surprise, too. The feathers were the same white as your clothes, and the feathers themselves were so ruffled and damaged that they looked more like fake plastic ones.

Were they even real?

Well, there was one way to find out, you suppose. Awkwardly, you rolled your shoulders, the wings moving along with them. You pause for a moment. Wait, how exactly did you do this again? Then realization hit you fast. You felt dread flood your chest, your shoulders growing tense. Oh dear. You forgot how to flap them. Huffing slightly, you moved your shoulders more harshly, the wings bobbing slightly from the movement.

It shouldn’t be too hard, you found yourself muttering as you felt your frown grow deeper in frustration when you clenched your back muscles, trying to get the large things on your back to at least move on their own.

After a few minutes of clenching your back and a few more minutes of moving your arms up and down, you gave up with a small sigh.

A part of you felt a bit silly for doing this. Heck, you probably looked ridiculous during all of that, too. With a small sniff, you went back to staring at the mirror, the woman staring back at you frowning.

You knew it shouldn't be that hard, but it seemed your memory failed you in regards to flapping the large, clumsy appendages on your back. After a second, you wondered. Wait, is it possible to get them to move just by thinking? Quickly after, you furrowed your brow with a small shake of your head.

Ok, so maybe getting them to move wasn't that hard, but you doubted the process was that sim-

You suddenly felt a gasp of pain tear itself out from your throat as you finally did get one of the wings to flap, your theory proven correct. However, you quickly regretted doing so as white hot pain filled your back and you heard the faint sounds of objects hitting the ground.

Looking behind you, ignoring the pain searing your back, you felt your mouth curling down in sheepish guilt at the sight of the picture frames on the ground. You felt the guilt grow worse when you realized that the glass of one of the portraits broke. Said portrait looked to be more sentimental, too, as it held a picture of a younger kettle smiling while holding the pair of cups from before, though much younger and swaddled in baby blankets.

Oh gosh, how were you going to explain this to the old man?

The door behind you opened up suddenly with a loud creak, causing you to jump and swivel your head behind you. You felt your face heat up as you found yourself staring at the kettle from the pictures holding a small tray of food in one hand, a cane in the other, and eyes possibly wide as yours from surprise.

A few seconds of silence passed between the two of you, your face growing redder and your legs felt paralyzed from embarrassment. Though, the kettle simply blinked and a gentle smile broke across his old tin face.

“Oh thank goodness, you’re awake! How is your head, young lady?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the fact that this is so short, I'm still a bit unclear what to do but boy howdy I plan on getting you to smooch the devil if it's the last thing I do.
> 
> (Father above I'm so sorry)


	2. Meet the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Elder Kettle makes a pleasant grandpa and the cup brothers welcome their new guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone, I apologize for the last chapter's shortness and the minor errors in it. I admittedly was so nervous about uploading and worrying whether or not I'll bore people that I likely didn't see them. I'll be more vigilant about that from now on.
> 
> Another note, there's a lack of devil in this chapter, and I apologize for that. This chapter is mostly here to set up your/reader's current situation and flesh out her interactions with Elder Kettle and the Cup brothers. However, I promise he'll show up next chapter, so please bear with me a little longer!
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

You stood dumbly for a moment, surprised at the kettle’s lack of anger or annoyance. Then again, you supposed you were blocking your accident behind you. The kettle continued to stare at you, the smile on his face faded as he tilted his head (or rather, body. You weren’t exactly sure if his head was his whole body) as his brow furrowed.

You in turn tilted your head in response, embarrassment likely obvious on your face. Oh goodness you hoped he wasn’t able to see the mess you made. You just woke up feeling incredibly groggy and with a splitting headache; it was far too early for you to be this nervous about upsetting a friendly old man.

The kettle cleared his throat, confusion and concern growing on his face. He took a few steps forward, causing you jump slightly in surprise and take a few steps back. Friendly or not, you really didn’t want him to see what you accidentally did to the portrait behind you. 

His brows raised when you moved away. For a brief moment you thought you saw a trace of hurt in his eyes, which in turn caused a tiny pang of guilt in your heart, before he shook his head slightly before speaking again. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! You’re probably feeling very confused about right now in the state your in,” before you could try and block his path he walked past you into the room, bee lined towards the large dresser. You flinched slightly when you heard the sound of his walking cane crushing some of the glass scattered on the carpet, no doubt that he saw the mess you made. If he did notice, he thankfully didn’t comment on it as he finally stopped in front of the dresser. 

He let out a small hum, adjusting a few of the still remaining portraits on top of the dresser to make some room for the tray, shortly turning his face to you after. “I apologize for barging in so suddenly, I simply wanted to check up on to you to see how were you doing. You gave me and the cups quite the scare the other night!”

He shortly turned back to the dresser in front of him to place the small tray on top of it; all the while chattering away as he looked over the contents of his delivery, making sure that everything was in place.

“I must admit, at first I thought a saw shooting star passing by given how fast it was moving, but given how it, well, you crashed into the trees nearby Mr. Cagney’s field, I feared the worst,” the sounds of tableware lightly clinking together filled the room as he paused for a moment, “When we made it over, well, everything was a right mess. You crashed pretty hard from what we’ve seen, miss.”

You can hear him pouring something into a cup, whether it was from his spout-like nose or a teapot you weren’t quite sure. Nor did you think you want to know. He turned shortly after, a tiny porcelain tea cup filled with warm milk in the hand not holding his cane. He slowly began to walk over to you, taking great care to not spill its contents as he continued his tale.

“Let me tell you, miss, for a split second I was worried you hadn’t made it. You were stiff as a rock and your eyes were tightly shut. Of course, you can only imagine the relief I felt when you stirred after Cuphead poked you with a stick.” He stopped in front of you- making sure to leave some space between the two of you in fear that you’d flitter back again- and tentatively offered the cup of milk towards you, which you gladly taken in with a small sip. You let out a small hum, the warmth filling your body pleasantly.

“Oh, also please pardon the boy for that, by the way. He’s a good one, but goodness he tends to be a bit rash sometimes,” he raised a hand towards his mustache, stroking it with a thoughtful expression. “Or well, most of the time. But he’s a nice boy, I assure you.” The smile quickly returned at this, a hint of fondness in his reassurance. No doubt about it the man greatly cared about the cup in mention, and you wondered if the two were related.

Not sure what else to say, you made a small hum in agreement and nodded as you took another sip from the warm cup in your hands. The old kettle in front of you was a bit of a chatter box, but you can’t say you mind it too much. In fact, you actually find it a bit relaxing and helpful, considering his easy going nature put your mind at ease and how it actually explained your situation somewhat.

He turned back and made his way back to dresser, all the while continuing. “Pardon me for all the rambling, miss. This old head tends to wander a bit sometimes,” he grabbed a small plate of what seemed to be cookies and turned back to face you, “how’s your head? I imagine you’re still a bit sore from your landing last night.”

You finished the cup of milk as you moved your glance up towards his face, the gentle smile of his face patiently waiting for you to respond. Your head was still bit sore and that pain was just about nothing compared to the burning sensation in your back, but other than that, you’d say you’re somewhat okay.

“Oh, ah, I’m fine, sir. My head still hurts a bit but I think I can manage” you winced slightly at the slightly croaky quality of your voice, but the old man didn’t seem to mind at all.

“That’s good, great even. I was worried you may have had a concussion, but it seems to me a night’s rest fixed you up a bit”, he walked over to with the plate of treats in tow and held it out in offering as he continued. “And your back? I’m not exactly a bird expert but it seems to me that those wings of yours look a little broken.”

You reach to take one of the tiny treats but you reeled your hand back. It’s probably better you tell him the tiny accident you had during your self examination earlier before you take anything else. You glance over to the side of the mirror, running a finger across the rim of the cup.

“Well, your suspicions seem right, sir. I, uh, tried to flap them earlier to see if they were..,” you paused for a moment, “..Real, and it hurt quite a bit. And I, um, may have accidentally knocked over a few things in the process, sir. My apologies, I honestly didn’t mean to.” 

For a split second, you feared the gentle smile would turn into a deeply angry frown, but when you turn your stare back to him the old man simply made a small waving motion with his cane and a small shrug as he placed the plate back onto the tray on the dresser.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, no real harm done. I’ll just clean up the mess later.” You nodded at this, but you still couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty- he already helped you so much, after all.

You didn’t get much chance to dwell too much on your self-induced pity however as you soon heard the old kettle in front of you clear his throat, his expression suddenly becoming serious. He slowly made his way over to you again, the small thumps of his cane echoing across the walls of the room.“Pardon me for asking, but can you tell me why you crashed here the other night? We don’t exactly see many angels here very often, you see.” he stopped in front of you with this, a curious look in his eye. 

At this you pause, staring down at the small cup in your hands. You tried to recount the other night, any kind of detail that might help you remember why you were here, but instead of memories you felt another headache come on. You winced slightly and let out a hiss of pain, frustration and pain knitting your brows close.

You raised your hand to your temple as you looked back up to the kettle in front of you, a small frown on your face.

“I, I’m afraid I can’t tell you, sir-”, you shake your head slightly, “I honestly can’t remember anything about last night.”

The kettle clicked his tongue, the ends of his moustache downturning. He raised a hand to stroke the bushy hairs, a likely habit of his when he’s deep in thought.

“Oh, this is quite the predicament,” he shook his head, “can you remember anything else? Anything like your name or where you’re from?”

You nodded, those parts of your memory were at least less hazy. Granted, it’s not much, you can’t really remember anything beyond those two, but at least it was something.

You don’t hesitate telling him your name, but you found yourself fumbling slightly on the other part. “You say I’m an angel, right? Well, I’m probably from Heaven then, aren’t I?” you felt slightly childish for saying such a thing, the answer seemed obvious enough, yet here you were struggling on something that seemed so simple.

Thankfully the kettle didn’t seem to mind your blunder as he gave you a small nod. “You likely are, miss. Though to come here of all places…” he trailed off, the same hand twiddling with his mustache. After a few seconds of silence, he shook his head, his gaze focused on you once more.

“Well, I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he sighed as he lowered his hand back to join the other on his cane, “I assume you have no place to go then, yes? You can stay here for as long as you need until you back on your feet.”

At this you flushed, flustered at the man’s generous offer. Goodness, he was awfully kind to offer a stranger like you a place to stay!

“Oh, no, you don’t have to!” you ignored how your voice cracked slightly from your surprise. “You’ve already taken me in when you found me out in the forest-”

“Elder Kettle?”

Both you and the old man jumped in surprise at the interruption. Elder Kettle turned towards the door and you peaked your head over his shoulder to be greeted by sight of the two cups from the photos. The one dressed in red shorts stood in the door, a look of surprise in his wide eyes when he noticed you, and the other in blue peaking over his shoulder. He looked just as surprised as the one in red, though he also looked to be a bit sheepish, aware that he and the other cup interrupted you two. 

You weren't sure how long the two of you stood in surprise, but Elder Kettle was the first to recover with a simple “Cuphead, Mugman! Come introduce yourselves to our guest” he waved an arm towards you as said this, a small smile spread across his face. You watch the two cups turn towards each other a moment, confusion and a hint of hesitation etched onto their faces, but did as they were told as they moved to stand next to their caretaker. The two of them looked up at you expectantly, not at all bothered that they only came up to the height of your hips.

You flushed slightly, suddenly much more self conscious with more eyes on you as you quickly moved to readjust the hem of your torn skirt and center your halo to look a bit more presentable in your new company. You cleared your throat slightly as Elder Kettle thankfully had some mercy as he introduced you to the cups.  
The cup, or well, mug in blue and a straight straw in his head was the first the break the ice, a polite smile on his porcelain face as he looked up at you. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. My name’s Mugman.” You offered a gentle smile in return and Mugman's smile weakened slightly. He glanced off to the side to look at nothing in particular, a tiny blush on his porcelain cheeks. You let out a quiet giggle at this, causing the blush on the poor cup's face to grow brighter. You felt a little bad, but at least you weren't the only nervous one here.

The other cup in red and a bent straw grinned, setting you at ease as he followed up with his own introduction. “And I’m his brother, the name’s Cuphead! I like your halo, miss!” You found your smile growing wider, your heart melting. The two of them were absolutely darling.

“Hello, Cuphead. Hello, Mugman” you wrung your hands together as you looked down to the cups infront of you. “I, uh, believe I’ll be staying with you boys for a while. I hope the two of you don't mind too much."

You sure hoped they wouldn't mind, at least. You did just wake up in their home with the expectation of their caretaker to stay here until you fully recover, they surely must be a little bit overwhelmed with the change, right?

“It’s cause you can’t remember anything, right?” Cuphead asked, then let out a tiny wheeze after his brother quickly elbowed him with a harsh look. The red nosed cup rubbed his sore arm, giving a half-hearted glare at his brother before he looked back up at you, his large eyes curious.

Well, at least he didn’t beat around the bush. You can admire that, you suppose. Besides, he wasn't exactly wrong, either.

“Yes, you’re certainly right about that" you let out a tiny chuckle, but winced at the small flare of pain in your back. You can quietly hear Mugman's 'are you okay, miss?' as you shook your head. Slightly flustered, you quickly reassure the young cup in front of you, your cheeks slightly warm.

"Oh, it's nothing too serious, Mugman," you waved your hand hurriedly, hoping to quell his worries. "My back just hurts a bit because of my little, ah, tumble the other night"

You felt your face grow warmer when you heard the cup snicker. “Oh yeah! Man, I wish you seen the look on ol’ Cagney’s face, you just about scared the soul out of him!”

Mental note, remember to apologize to Cagney if you meet him.

The other cup rolled his eyes slightly at his brother, but you could see a small smile form on the cup’s face. 

“He was a little bit startled, I’ll say” Mugman chimed, his voice much more quieter in comparison to his brother.

“Startled enough to curse up a storm!” Cuphead let out another snort, the grin on his face growing wider as he recounted the look on Cagney’s face. Something about that look on his face told you he was probably going to tease the man mercilessly about it for a while.

The Elder Kettle let out a quiet chuckle, amused at the cup’s antics. The cup was likely a trouble maker, but you couldn’t help but let out a quiet giggle.

Something tells you that you’re in good company. You may haven't learned much about yourself, but at least you're staying with such friendly cups. You felt giddy, excited to stay with the small family in front of you.


	3. Into the Lion's den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you remember about Hell the hard way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! First off I like to thank you for showing all your support so far, as I was a bit nervous to upload the first chapter in the beginning. But I'm glad all of you like it so far, and since its the holidays and I promised you all the Devil, consider this a gift from me to you all: an extra long chapter and one devil, coming right up!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Before you knew it, about a week has passed since you’ve started living with Elder Kettle and the cup brothers. You haven't remembered anything new, as you’re still stuck with just your name and the faint recollections of heaven. It was a bit frustrating, but you didn't mind it too much since your hosts always managed to lift your spirits.

You honestly couldn’t have been any more grateful towards the three, and you found yourself quickly growing fond of your hosts. Despite the short amount of time of living together, they quickly made you feel at home and made you feel like you were a part of their tiny family.

Elder Kettle was like the wise grandfather you weren’t sure you ever had. He was the first to welcome you with open arms and a seemingly infinite amount of patience. Out of the three, you possibly spent the most time with him. He often stayed home while the cup brothers were off playing or causing mischief around the island, and you were stuck nursing your back in their guest room (which you shortly discovered was the same room you woke up in). It was only natural you started to spend more time with him while the two cups were out, and you greatly enjoyed talking to him.

He seemed grateful for the company you provided him. Even when you were able to finally flap your wings without too much pain and free to move without becoming lightheaded, you often spent your time with him. Most of the time, you simply sat in the living room with him, sipping away at a cup of steamed milk as the two of you chatted away about whatever came into interest. Other times you’d help him with menial tasks around the house and in return he’d teach you how to do simple things; baking, sewing, he even offered you to teach you some of the magic he knew.

Though, you can’t say that you were very good with the last part, as you nearly blew up the kitchen when you accidentally recited the spell (“It’s a good beginner’s spell! Now follow my lead..” was what he said before disaster struck) incorrectly. Thankfully you only left a fine layer of ash covering everything as your work quite literally blew up in your face.

You mostly stuck to reading most of the non-magic related books in his collection from then on, and you had a sneaking suspicion Elder Kettle decided to lock away most of his magic-related books away from you. He was incredibly surprised you managed to screw up a simple spell that badly, after all.

Not that you minded, as you yourself decided to avoid anything magic related after that mess. You still blush every time you remember it, even when you’re hunched over studying one of the heavy books from his collection. Turns out even reading didn’t completely ward off embarrassing memories, sadly. It certainly didn’t help that Cuphead won’t let you live that incident down, often bringing it up whenever he was in the mood to tease you.

Speaking of the cup brothers; if Elder Kettle was your grandfather, then Cuphead and Mugman were like your younger brothers. It took a while for them to warm up to you, as they were unused to your presence around their home. Most of your interactions with the two were short and slightly awkward at first, the three of you completely unsure what to say to each other.

Though shortly after the infamous spell incident, Cuphead was much more comfortable around you. You could’ve went without him laughing at your ash-covered appearance that day, but you can’t say that you were completely bothered by it. Even Mugman was struggling to hide his chuckles as his brother was howling with laughter, a tiny smile hiding behind the hand covering his mouth.

From that day onwards, the boys were much more comfortable around you, and often invited you to join them in their misadventures. Whether it be running through the forests near their cottage or eating cotton candy while walking around the second isle, they always made sure you felt included in their excursions.

Though, that’s not to say there weren’t times you worried over the two during your outings. As the oldest of your trio, you found yourself mostly playing the role of mother hen whenever the three of you were out and about. Which may or not have gotten some eyerolls from Cuphead most of the time, as he often insisted that he’s fully confident that whatever plans he had for the day will be completely fine. And most of the time, everything went fine.

This wasn’t one of those times, however.

It started out harmless enough; Cuphead suggested the three of you visit the Baroness’s candy castle for a day of desserts. You remember seeing Mugman turn to look at you with eyes full of excitement out of the corner of your eye. The two of them were excited enough, and the two were absolutely thrilled that you approved of their plans as you three soon made your merry way to the gates for a small tour around the sweet grounds.

When the tour guide stopped around the large balcony overseeing the garden where the Baroness Von Bon Bon played croquet, you noticed out of the corner of your eye Cuphead break off from the group to look over the candy cane railings while a reluctant Mugman followed him.

Already blocking out the drawling voice of the jellybean guide, you followed shortly after them. Cuphead let out a low whistle as he looked over the garden of coconut shavings and gumdrops, an idea hatching in his mind. He turned over to his brother with a simple ‘Wanna see who can spit the farthest from here? Loser has to pay for lunch.’ all with a mischievous smirk on his face.

You were about to object to the idea, knowing well you could easily cover the expenses with the money Elder Kettle lent you for the day, but Mugman must’ve felt competitive, as he quickly returned his brother’s smirk with a confident ‘You’re on!’. Before you even had the chance to stop them the two of them they were leaning over the railing.

To sum up the whole incident, you heard the baroness let out a loud, angry shriek that echoed across the garden- possibly the whole castle- as spit landed directly onto her head, and she angrily barked for her guards to find the perpetrator.

You heard her loudly shriek “ _OFF WITH THEIR HEADS_ ” all while many of her sweet servants frantically crowded around her to console the woman.

You didn’t know the ruler very well, but the pure anger radiating from her gave you the feeling that she was being completely serious in her punishment. You hastily grabbed by the two cups by the back of their shirts to their displeasure as you quickly dragged them off the balcony to the castle entrance.

You heard the voice of a guard shout out after you as you quickly walked away from the gates, and your walk immediately turned into a frantic run as you heard multiple heavy footsteps behind you.

And here you are now, gasping for air in front of a small bakery after having dragged the boys out of the fairgrounds in fear of the monarch’s guards catching up to you. Your legs were sore and your feet were killing you when you finally stopped when you no longer heard the heavy footsteps behind you. You gently placed your friends down as you ungracefully leaned on the storefront window, heavily regretting putting on heels instead of something more practical.

You looked around as you felt your heart beat rapidly in your ribcage, confusion knitting your brows close. There were large buildings surrounding the three of you, many of the island’s residents out walking through the streets. Most of them ignored you and the cups as they walked past you, though you could see some of them do a double take at you specifically, surprise spreading across their face before they quickly turned away when they realized they were caught staring.

Well, you couldn’t really blame them. You were likely red-faced from exhaustion and your hair was incredibly messy from the wind running through it. That, or it could be the bright halo and the wings. Either way, you probably looked ridiculous. A wheezy angel is probably not something the residents see everyday.

You could hear Cuphead faintly remarking something about your disheveled appearance and the sound of Mugman slapping him on the shoulder with a small shush. Small hands gently pulled at the hem of the sundress you put on and you glanced down to see a sheepish Mugman and an embarrassed Cuphead right beside him.

Guilt heavily radiated off of them as they looked up at you, and you already felt your heart ache when they gave you the “puppy eyes” they made when they knew they were in trouble. Mugman cleared his throat as he was the first one to break the heavy silence between you three.

He uttered your name in a sheepish tone, his eyes moving to the ground. “We’re real sorry about that, we shouldn’t have done that” for a moment you thought he was to going to start crying from the glassy sheen his eyes took before Cuphead put a hand on his shoulder, a frown on his face.

“Oh Mugs, it ain’t your fault. I was the one who suggested the dumb idea in the first place” he said, pointedly ignoring the choked ‘I know’ his brother made.

You sighed, causing the two cups to look up at you.

“Boys, I’m not mad at either of you, and I’m glad you at least know what you did was wrong. And incredibly idiotic,” Cuphead glanced off to the side at this, his cheeks red, “but I’m really not the one you should be apologizing to.”

You fumbled with the bag on your shoulders, setting it down at your feet as you kneeled down to get closer to the boys. Mugman still looked a few moments away from nervous tears and Cuphead moved to shove his hands in his pocket with a small frown.

A part of you knew well that they were afraid to go back to the castle of the pink baroness, where they would face her wrath. But they can’t hold off on that apology forever. You quietly scrambled your brain for a possible solution, quickly opening up the bag on your shoulder. Perhaps some sweets would cheer them up, and you were in front of a bakery, after all.

You looked back up from the bag and made the best comforting smile you could come up with and you gently leaned in towards them.

“Tell you boys what,” you stage-whispered as they perked up, “I can help you two apologize to Ms. Bon Bon tomorrow after she’s cooled off. She can’t stay mad forever, right?” Cuphead moved to open his mouth, likely to tell you of Bon Bon being able to keep one hell of a grudge (which you were completely unaware of), but stopped as you continued.

“Now, I don’t know about you two boys, but I’m absolutely famished. And you know, Elder Kettle did give me some money...,” you smiled when you saw their shoulders perk up and the grins beginning to form on their faces “How about we grab a bite to eat here? I did happen to see a nice looking cake here..”

You didn’t even need a verbal confirmation from them, as the two of them immediately cheered and excitedly danced around you, causing you to giggle. You picked up your bag off the ground, Cuphead immediately tugging on your dress to lead you into the shop while Mugman held the door.

For a couple of children, the two of them were surprisingly strong, as you found yourself quickly being lead by the short cups to a small table near the front of the bakery. Mugman pulled out your chair, giving you an exaggerated bow that made you chuckle. Cuphead in the meantime rushed to sit in the chair across from you and bounced excitedly when a waitress came by and plopped the menus down onto the table.

You ordered a simple cup of tea and honey while you made sure the boys ordered something that wasn’t too overtly sweet, reminding them that they still have dinner to look forward to when it gets dark. They nodded in response, far too content to be bothered by your fussing.

The food soon came and the boys started to dig in quickly into their food. As you sipped at the small, dainty cup in your hand, you took in the atmosphere of the shop, taking in the smells of warm bread and sugar in the air. You hummed gently, looking at the window front to observe the residents walking by.

Suddenly you found yourself frowning around the rim of your cup, your thoughts wandering as you sat in your chair. When exactly will your memories come back? Sure, you can wholeheartedly admit that you loved living with Cuphead and Mugman, but you still couldn’t help but wonder why you’re here on Inkwell. You had to have come here for a good reason, right?

From what you’ve learned so far, you were an angel that crash landed onto an island that you have no knowledge about. Elder Kettle had been hesitant to tell you why it was surprising for someone like you to be here, and whenever you asked him he seemed to avoid the question entirely. He always hesitated when you mentioned the subject around him, a tense frown on his face as he looked at you. You knew he was likely hiding something from you, but you knew you weren't going to get any answers from him. 

You sigh, frustration evident on your face as you finished your tea. Why did everything have to be so complicated? You can hear Mugman asking you what's wrong, but you simply reassured him with a smile and saying you just had a headache. He gave you a tiny frown, likely not believing the lie, but went back to eating the small red velvet cake he ordered.

About a half hour later the boys finished up with their desserts and the three of you left right after paying. You can hear the cups idly chatting about whatever came into their interest as you walked along the numerous buildings lining the sidewalks. You let out a small hum when you looked around the large buildings surrounding you, their height and bright colors fascinating you.

It was all admittedly new to you, as you never been to this part of the islands. You were sure you would've remembered if you visited the place. It was far too active for you to forget about.

You nearly tripped when Cuphead and Mugman suddenly stopped in front of you, the two of them exchanging an expression you couldn't quite read. Confused at why they stopped, you looked up past the train tracks the boys stopped in front to see a large cave with a velvet carpeted stairway leading inside. You could faintly see lights flashing and dancing in the dark mouth, the source of them coming from the outline of a brightly lit building in the darkness. Looking up, you noticed the welcome sign mounted on top of the opening.

“Casino entrance?” you quietly read aloud, confusion obvious on your face. You couldn't quite place it, but you felt a strange feeling rushed through you. Something about the words seemed oddly familiar to you. Have you been here before?

Before you knew it, you felt your legs carrying you directly to the gaping mouth of the cave, and you can hear Cuphead and Mugman shouting your name as they frantically followed after you. You stopped before you can enter, astonished by the sight that greeted you.

The building was utterly massive. You had to squint your eyes from the sheer brightness of the lights emanating from the building, the entire place lighting up most of the cave. The entire place stuck true to its gambling nature, as the path to the door was lined with large stone dice blocks and the cards framing the sign on top. The walls surrounding the entire area prevented you from getting a chance to peak over them, and you felt curiosity nip at you to try and see. You shook your head, forcing yourself to abandon the idea for now. You glance over to see a large tower shaped like a chess piece, a large crown carved on top. By the looks of the giant lock on the gate in front of it, you assumed it roomed someone important.

Through your strained vision, you can make out the dark outline of a horned beast on the very top of the casino. The statue was completely black in color, the stone carved to look as if there was dark fur covering its arms and body. You looked up higher to see its face, and you were met with its wide cheshire grin. Even though it wasn’t alive, you couldn’t help but feel slightly unsettled by the empty smile it held.

You blink, snapping out of your reverie as you felt something tugging on your dress. You look down to see Mugman looking up at you, a frown of concern on his face.

“Are, are you okay? You suddenly walked away so quickly from us..” the cup trailed off. His brother suddenly interjected, his face contorted with a nervous smile and beads of milk sliding down his head in a sheen of sweat.

“Y-yeah, is everything ok? Look, we’re all up for showing you around the islands but I don't think it's a good idea for you to go in there-”

“I..” your voice seemed to fail you as you quietly trailed off, and you moved your glance back at the large palace in front of you. Weird statue or not, it faintly reminded you of something you couldn't place.

“This place looks familiar to me, boys. I can't quite place it but I feel I might remember something if I just..” you stepped inside, and you were instantly hit with how unbearingly warm it was. You reached a gloved hand to your forehead, your brows quickly raising upwards when you felt your hand come back slightly wet. The heat was beginning to become unbearable now, your legs becoming slightly wobbly as you stepped a bit further.

Cuphead and Mugman quickly rushed to your side to grab hold of your hands as you wobbled more dangerously. Goodness, was this place always this hot? You can faintly hear your friends concerned shouting, your eyelids fluttering from the heat.

“Look, miss,” you frowned when you heard this. Cuphead almost never called you miss now- it was either your name or ‘sis’. “We need to leave now! You’re burnin’ u-”

The cup was suddenly cut off when a loud, high pitched shriek pierced through the hot air. In a matter of seconds you felt your body hit the ground with a hard slam and you could feel small sharp feet dig into the feathers of your wings, pricking the tender flesh harshly. Cuphead and Mugman were shouting now, and you felt the sharp claws disappear from your wings, tearing off some of the white feathers in the process.

You let out a shriek of pain, curling into yourself as you heard the rapid pitter patter of tiny feet grow distant and a door rapidly open and close. Ignoring the burning pain, you instinctively reached a hand to the space above of your head. You felt your stomach drop when you didn’t feel the cool touch of your halo.

For a minute, you laid there curled up, the entire incident running through your head. The next thing you knew, you were up, wincing at the hot air hitting the cuts on your wings, and making your way to the door of the casino. For the first time since you’ve started living with Elder Kettle and the cup brothers, you felt anger.  
Sure, you felt annoyance over the past week. Dealing with Cuphead and his mischief can have that effect on anyone. And as much you were fond of the child, you would be a liar if you said you never gotten annoyed with his antics. Even your patience has its limits, after all.

But this was far more different. You felt genuine, burning anger running through your body. You almost never get angry. And for a few days, you wondered if you would even be able to feel angry. And why would you? You have a perfectly friendly family looking after you. Yet then some, some _punk_ came along and attacked you for no good reason and put your friends in danger.

And that’s where you draw the line.

“W-wait, sis! Stop that!” Mugman shouted as you finally made it to the entrance of the casino, the glass doors towering far above you. Cuphead quickly ran towards you as opened up the door, Mugman quickly following after.

You were immediately hit with the strong scent of cigar smoke the minute you stepped inside the place. Completely unused to the stench, you slapped a hand on your nose, a headache already beginning to form. Almost immediately you felt your anger subside, nausea slowly beginning to take its place.The thought of staying here longer than a minute filled you with dread. But you couldn't exactly go home just yet. ‘You won’t be here long’, you reassured yourself as you took a wobbly step further in, ‘Just find what's yours and leave to put an end to this long, long day’.

You would give a million bucks just to be back at home and sleep in your bed and just forget the entire day. But that comes later, right now you have to find the thief that mugged you for your halo and maybe give him a piece of your mind. With a shake of your head, you scanned the area.

The interior of the casino was just as grand as its outer shell, and you felt yourself marvel at just how lavish everything was. The walls looked to be made of ivory and gold, the colors glittering under the casino lights. There were casino games everywhere, all lined with lavishly dressed patrons. The longer you stood in here, the more you felt under dressed in comparison. Practically all the women in here dressed in expensive looking dresses and were adorned in various types of jewelry, while you stood there in a plain old white sundress with the golden cross necklace you had when you woke up. Even with the short heels you wore and the bag at your side, you felt like a child in comparison to all the beauties in here.

You can feel numerous stares aimed at your form from the patrons, some of them openly turning away from their games to stare at you. Though thankfully they soon lost interest in you right away thanks to your plain appearance and soon went back to their games. This place already made you feel uncomfortable.

The door behind you opened with a slight creak, and you feel a smaller hand grab you by the wrist. You look down to see Cuphead who was just about drenched in sweat and Mugman quickly surveying the area.

The two of them looked absolutely on edge, and you immediately felt guilty for dragging them into this mess. You let your temper get the best of you and now the boys are trying to keep you out of possible danger. You open your mouth to apologize, but Cuphead quickly cut you off.

“Look, sis, I get the halo’s important to you and all- it’s part of your schtick.” he spread his arms wide, as if presenting you to a crowd. You had no idea what he meant by ‘schtick’ but you continued to listen to him. “But can you really not see how you look right now? You’re burning up!”

He had a point, even with the cooler air of the casino protecting you from the overbearing heat of the cave, you still felt lightheaded. Cuphead and Mugman looked completely unaffected in comparison to you, while you felt like you were going to collapse any minute now. Still, you were the adult here. You needed to remain strong for them.

“Cuphead, I appreciate the concern, but I need to-” you tried to take another step forward, but you wobbled again and you felt the cups rush to your side again to steady you. The brothers exchanged a look as they each held on to you. They knew they couldn’t leave without your halo, but they knew that this place was hazardous to your health.

At a loss, the two frantically whispered as they dragged you through the casino, all the while making sure to avoid the staff. Things would get ugly real fast if they were caught. They were fully aware that they had no business here, and they knew that they can stand a chance if a brawl broke out if their cover was blown. You, on the other hand, didn’t stand a chance in hell.

“Cuphead, we can’t let her just wander around here, what are we going to do?” Mugman frantically whispered as he steadied you when you wobbled again.

“Look, Maybe we can leave her near the bar? The old goat probably won’t notice-”

“ _Probably?!_ ”

You started slightly at Mugman’s whispered shriek, surprised at the urgency in his voice. You were far too lightheaded for this. If you walked around here any longer you’d probably pass out. Everything sounded muffled around you, you could barely make out what your friends were going on about when they suddenly sat you down in a stool in front of a counter.

Though muffled, you can faintly hear Mugman whisper- why was he whispering?- for you to wait here and they’ll come back when they found your halo. If you were less nauseas, you would’ve immediately insisted that you tag along with them, already aware of the danger they could get into if they wandered off alone. But all you could do was let out a weak whimper as you watched the two cups duck into the crowd of casino goers, their short forms immediately disappearing.

Your head was aching much more now, and you groaned as you moved to place your head on the counter. Wherever you were, you already regretted coming here. You weren’t sure if a possible lead on your missing memories was even worth it, not when you were absolutely miserable here.

The sounds of the machines and laughter of the gamblers echoed in your head, and you let out a tiny hiss. Yep, you hated it. You weakly moved your arms to the countertop and rested your chin on top of them, quietly musing. The feeling has gotten stronger the deeper you entered in here, the entire place reminded you faintly of something that wasn’t just coming to mind. You let out a tiny, agitated groan.

Why couldn’t you just remember anything? This entire mess could’ve been avoided if you could actually organize your thoughts long enough for you to actually-

You jumped slightly when your vision was suddenly filled with a deep red. You lifted your head up slowly as you sat up in your stool. You blinked as you finally registered the wine glass in front of you, the confusion alleviating your headache slightly. You look up from the glass to the figure standing in front of you, the shiny name tag labelled “Ms. Martini” catching your eye. Confused, you look up further.

The bartender in front of you, a woman with a full martini glass for a head and bored looking eyes framed by deep purple eyeshadow, eyed you down as you looked up at her. You nervously licked your lips as you felt your mouth suddenly go dry.

“I-I didn’t order this, miss” you stammered as you felt the woman’s stare burn into your face. You don’t even know this woman and you already felt uncomfortable.

“I know you didn’t.” she responded boredly as she turned to wipe down the counter in front of you. A few moments of silence passed between the two as you watched the woman finish wiping and mix up a drink in the blink of an eye and hand it off to a skeleton in a red dress a few seats away from you.

She turned back over to you. Her red lips downturned when she noticed the still full glass in front of you. You squirmed slightly in your chair. The awkward silence is growing worse by the minute.

“I-I don’t drink, miss” you shrinked back slightly when her lidded eyes widened slightly in surprise before she shook her head, her frown growing. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, her brow knitted in annoyance before she went back to mixing. Silence filled the air between the two of you again. After a few minutes of nothing but listening to the chatter in the background, you thought your conversation was over until she cleared her throat.

“The boss ordered it for you. It’d be rude to deny a gift from him.”

She moved away to attend to the other bar patrons before you can say another word to her, leaving you to sit in confused silence. You look back down to the drink in front of you, a frown tugging on your lips. While the gift was nice, you were certain that alcohol was the last thing you needed right now.

You heard the leather of the stool next to you squeak, and you turn your head. The sight that greeted you was...surprising, to say the least.

The man next to you greatly dwarfed your height, the stool beneath him looking comically small in comparison. He sat silently as he faced the counter, yet the bartender from before quickly placed a glass of scotch in front of him and he readily accepted it with a large, clawed hand. You looked up further to see the man was covered in wild black fur, his face completely black as well. Looking further, you felt a weight in your stomach form as you register the large horns on his head. While one of them was firmly wrapped in bandaging, you gulped at the thought of them pointed at you.

You felt a sense of foreboding the longer you sat next to the man, the nausea from when you first entered growing worse. Where was Cuphead and Mugman? The pit in your stomach grew worse as you turned your head back the wine glass in front of you, cold sweat beginning to bead at your forehead,

The scent of cigar smoke soon filled your nose as the man lit a cigar right next to you. You raised a hand to cover your nose as you searched the crowd for the two cups. Where were they? You shouldn’t have never brought them in here, the air felt absolutely foul to you and you really wish you just never entered the cave.

You can feel the back of your head burn as you faced away from the figure, no doubt that you have his attention now as you desperately looked for the boys. This place wasn't-

“-Lookin’ a bit under the weather, dollface” the deep, raspy voice of the man remarked, and the burning soon grew worse as you slowly turned your head to face him.

You were met with a sharp toothy smirk and pair of sickly yellow eyes, the yellow sclera framing the deep red of his irises. The cigar smoke grew much stronger as he languidly puffed away at it, his posture completely relaxed as he leaned against the counter. Just sitting near him didn't feel right to you.

Feathers brushed your bare shoulders as you felt your wings unconsciously fold themselves around your body. Something about him didn't feel right at all, his gaze intrusive as his eyes trailed up and down your form. You gulped as you struggled for a response, and you desperately hoped that your nervousness wasn’t obvious as you sat there. A tiny part of your head nagged at you the longer the two of you stared at each other. The man next to you felt extremely familiar, and you didn’t like it. Why didn't you like it?

“I-I..” you ignored the smirk forming on his face, “I’m just a bit.. overwhelmed, sir.”

He snorted, apparently finding your response amusing. “‘Sir’? My, aren’t you a polite little lady” he blew a ring of smoke at this, and you could’ve sworn that smug grin of his grew wider. You found yourself letting out a nervous laugh, not exactly knowing what to do in a situation like this. That got him to let out a low laugh in return, amusement clear in those eyes of his. Black skin suddenly wrinkled slightly as he tilted his head, a thoughtful look on his face as he narrowed his eyes at you. In a blink of an eye, his face suddenly grew closer to yours, his nose practically brushing against yours.

You flinched and drew back, your face growing hot as the beast in front of you let out a chuckle that rumbled through your entire body. Your wings pressed themselves tighter to your body, as if desperate to shield you.

Sharp claws suddenly pricked at the lower half of your face, forcing your head closer as one hand tightly held onto your chin. His face was directly in front of yours again, causing you to scrunch your nose slightly when you smelt the cigar smoke and alcohol on his breath. You looked down, desperate to avoid his threatening gaze, and you felt your stomach drop when you noticed the rows of sharp teeth he had. You felt a sharp sting bite down into the skin of your chin, the smirk growing wider as he moved your head up to force your sight up.

“You aren’t from around here are you?” you didn’t like the way he said that, the friendly tone he used felt incredibly forced. He let out a small, mocking hum, the smirk never leaving his face.

You don’t like the look in his eye, the red eyes staring directly into yours promised nothing but trouble. The smirk then melted into a seemingly sweet smile, as if he was trying to get you to relax in his grip, but it only served to make the knot in your stomach grow worse.

“Do you have any idea where you are, _angel?_ ” he suddenly hissed out the last word as his grip grew stronger, causing you to let out a gasp of pain as you felt his claws digging into the tender skin of your cheeks.

He had your face trapped in one hand, and his grip soon grew tighter. You look up to see the hint of madness and excitement in his eye, the sharp sting growing in intensity.The mask of friendliness immediately disappeared as the smile grew wider in sadistic glee when he heard the tiny whimper you let out.

“You got some nerve comin’ here in my territory, all alone, too,” he tilted your face as he forced your face closer, his smile never leaving his face.

You desperately struggled in his grip, trying anything to get him away from you. He snorted at your struggling, rolling his eyes as he tilted your face to the other side. The man in front of you hummed again as he raised a claw to your lips, forcing you to bare your teeth. He let out another snort, mumbling something intelligible as he continued. The act went on for a few minutes, the beast in front of you ignoring the discomfort on your face as he continued perusing your features, as if he was examining a prized horse.

The entire thing felt humiliating to you, your cheeks flaming up in shame as the chuckles of some nearby gamblers filled your ears. You desperately looked around the sea of people nearby, hoping, wishing that someone would come to your aid and defend you. But instead of sympathy, you were met with indifferent stares. Most of the patrons looked at you for a moment, for a split second filling you with hope before turning with a shake of their head. As if the entire sight was something casual and not at all frightening.

He tightened his grip on you again, rough finger pads pressing into the sides of your face. Your cheeks stung slightly "Don't look away from me" he hissed, a forked tongue wriggling through his teeth as he glared at you. You looked back towards him, causing the man to let out a "good girl" before resuming his examination. That got some laughs from some of the men in the crowd, some of them even wolf whistling as large grey hands manhandled your face.

You felt a surge of anger rise up, your face growing redder as you squirmed slightly in the man's grip. Huffing slightly, you stare into yellow eyes, glaring at the man above you.

He rose a brow, looking down at you, not at all phased. Then his eyes lit up, the sight causing your stomach to wrench unpleasantly as he turned his head to take a slow, long drag of his cigar before turning back to slowly blow out the tainted smoke into your face. The second you breathed it in you began to cough fiercely, your eyes watering as you struggled even harder in his grip. He let another laugh at your predicament, smushing your cheeks again with a mocking coo before tilting your head upwards.

Before you could think, pure anger and disdain filled your body, giving you enough courage to reach your arms up and shove the man's chest away from you. Surprise filled his eyes, black pupils staring at you blankly before they shrunk down to tiny pinpricks, and a low rumbling growl soon filled your ears.

That was a huge mistake on your end, as the stranger’s face contorted into an ugly snarl as he rapidly grabbed your arms in the same hand that held your face, his grip incredibly tight. You let out a whimper as you struggled in his grip, letting out a small shriek as you felt your body forced from your seat and into the air. You dangled in the air as he rose to his full height, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest.

“You got some moxie, but you’re so _stupid_ , doll.”

Your wings were frantically flapping now, desperate to get you away from the danger in front of you. You tightly closed your eyes, fear taking over your body as you felt your body begin to shake and tremble.

The beast in front of you delighted at your fear as he let out a low chuckle, his other hand reaching to touch the cross around your neck. You can hear him make a disgusted hiss as you felt him touch the cold metal, quickly letting go of the pendant.

“Tell me, dollface, do you have any idea who you’re messing with?”

You can feel the hot breath fan over your face, but you refused to open your eyes. Right now, you can feel everything rushing into your head, your dread growing worse as the weight of the situation hit you directly. You finally remember where you were, the man’s appearance finally made sense and your shaking grew worse.

 _Devil_ was what your mind answered. You wandered straight into Hell. You’re trapped in the hands of the Devil himself because you foolishly walked into his domain all because you lost your temper and your idiotic curiosity got the better of you. You put you and the boys in danger and it was all your fault.

You quickly opened your eyes, your blood running cold with realization. Oh no, where were they? Were they hurt? Oh, you should’ve never gotten them involved. For all you know they could be dea-

The Devil took your face in his free hand, the rough pads of his fingers pressing down hard on your cheeks. He chuckled as you let out a pained whimper, your attention forced back onto him as your eyes locked directly with his. You can feel the sadistic glee radiating off him as your wings flapped even harder and you began to struggle in his grip.

“Damn shame we had to meet like this, girlie. But you just _had_ to step out of your bound-”

He was cut off when a bottle of rum flew and hit him directly in the back of his head, the bottle instantly shattering and sending glass flying everywhere. His pupils contracted as you felt his anger grow murderous, the alcohol that splashed into his fur now evaporating from the heat radiating off him.

Almost immediately after this all of the noise in the casino came to a halt, the patrons instantly growing quiet as they froze in fearful anticipation.

Both of you turned to see Cuphead standing on top of a poker table, his stance rigid as he glared fiercely at the demon holding you. Mugman was standing on the white tiled floor next to the table, your halo in hand as he too glared at The Devil. Both of them looked ready to pounce on the man tightly holding you.

“Let her go, Devil!” Cuphead demanded as he stomped on the poker table, knocking over a stack of poker chips as he did so.

“We defeated you before, we can do it again!” Mugman shouted, causing you to pause. Wait, these boys have fought him? And actually won?

You were forced out of your confused reverie when you felt the hand gripping your arms start to burn, causing you to cringe and look at the Devil to see steam coming out of his ears. Oh, he definitely did not like what he heard.

“You cups have some damn nerve for coming in here again,” he took a step closer to them, dragging you along with him. You can hear him lowly growling in his throat, the sound not unlike a lion or a bear ready to strike.

You felt a flare of protectiveness rise up as he got closer to them. There is no way you're going to let him go near them. His grip was far too tight, however. You can't do anything just yet, you had to wait.

“You boys just got lucky the first time” the Devil snarled as he began to approach them, causing the gamblers at the poker table to immediately disperse like ants.

The boys stood firmly in place as the Devil approached, their glares faltering for a moment before Cuphead shook his head and began to snap his fingers, bright blue bullets flying towards the Devil. You can feel the demon’s grip on you loosen and you quickly took your chance.

You quickly struggled with all the strength you had, your wings flapping as fast as they ever had and hitting the back of the man’s head as you finally broke free. You felt the urge to shriek as you suddenly dropped, but the frantic flapping of the wings on your back quickly kept you in the air. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you staggered slightly in the air, the sensation of flying feeling completely new yet familiar.

A loud roar filled your ears and you turned your head to see the Devil glaring daggers at you. The pitch black pupils shifting and morphing as he quickly swiped a clawed hand towards you, causing you to let out a shriek as you quickly flew out of the way. He was beyond livid. You soon heard the cracks of bones snapping and you see several arms grow, forcing themselves out of his furred body.

Furred arms flew at you in several directions, the large hands eager to sink their claws into you. You quickly moved out of the way, ducking and diving to avoid the man’s grasp. You can hear Cuphead and Mugman shouting as you felt droplets of milk splash onto you, the devil bearing the brunt of the beam of milk shot at him.

He let out an enraged roar as he turned towards them, leaving his back open to you as he began to stomp towards them. Angry at the thought of him hurting your friends, you dove and kicked him as hard as you could. You hear him make a shocked growl as you shoved your way past him, the dark fur brushing harshly against the bare skin of your arm as you swooped down to quickly grab the cups in your arms.

You turned your head to see the Devil, his form now much larger and his fur fluffed up in a mane as his pupils morphed into that of a goats. His face was contorted into an ugly snarl, his sharp fangs bared as he seethed at the three of you.

The air of the casino felt much more hotter and frantic as you heard the panicked shouts of the gamblers, desperate to get themselves out of the danger as they ran off in multiple directions. You catch a flash of purple in the corner of your eye and suddenly you see cards fly at you, the edges looking far too sharp for them to be safe.

Mugman shouted for you to duck out of the way, the edge of one of the cards nicking you in the cheek as you narrowly avoided the swarm of cards. You can feel the cut on your cheek burn as you flew towards the glass doors of the casino, the Devil hot on your trail the entire way.

You can feel claws scraping at your bare leg, and unthinkingly you launched your foot back behind you. The Devil behind you let out a loud howl as you felt the bottom of your heel hit him square in the face, the searing heat of his form burning under your foot. That must’ve done the trick as you soon felt him fall back, the glass of the door hitting you hard as you flew into them. The doors flew open and you felt the hot air of the cave hit you, and without a moment to think you flew out as fast as you could; Cuphead all the while shouting insults towards the Devil behind you and Mugman letting out a relieved sigh as he clutched your halo in his hands.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The Devil clutched his nose as his extra arms slowly receded back into his body, his eyes glowing in barely contained rage as he glared at the glass doors. The little bird managed to slip from his grasp and managed to actually hit him. In the face and quite hard. He can feel the steam pouring through his ears as he looked around his business, catching sight of the leftover patrons hiding behind the slot machines and under the tables.

The damn humiliation of having one of God’s little dolls actually catching him off guard and actually hurting him filled him with the absolute worst rage he hasn’t felt since the little cups defeated him a couple months ago. The fact that those little shits decided to show their faces in his territory again with a prissy little angel in tow only added fuel into the fire.

In no mood to deal with the sniveling gamblers hiding under his tables, he released the loudest roar he let out in months.

“ _Everybody get the hell out of my casino!_ ”

He didn’t have to tell them twice, as many of them scuttled out to the exit, abandoning whatever winnings they had in opt of keeping their souls and lives.

The fact that he still has an effect on the pathetic mortals of Inkwell Isle comforted him slightly, but didn’t do much to improve his mood as he stomped over to the bar. He needed a drink. Something strong, and alot of it.

The Tipsy Troop wasted no time in moving to prepare him a drink, though with a sharp snap of his fangs they gave their boss the entire bottle of vodka Mr. Whiskey was holding. He glared at them, causing them to take out several other bottles of alcohol from below the bar. The demon watched as they paused in their scramble to take a breath, nodding his head in acceptance as he took in the bottles in front of him. It was just about half of the bar’s stock, but he couldn't care less. He can easily get his minions to get him more.

With a nervous bow, the three of them quickly moved from behind the bar, knowing well to avoid the boss when he was in a bad mood.

When their footsteps faded into the direction of the staff housing, the Devil stuck a claw into the cork of the bottle. After impatiently opening the bottle with a familiar pop, he tipped his head back as he downed the entire drink in one go. The familiar burn of the alcohol in his throat calmed him somewhat, but not enough to quell his headache

Taking another bottle in his hand and opening it, he raised the bottle to his lips as he heard footsteps approaching him. The Devil glanced behind him to see the familiar purple suit his right hand man wore, scoffed, and turned back to the array of bottles on the bar.

“Drinking this time of the day?” The Devil can practically hear the goddamned smug aura in his henchman’s voice, annoyance beginning to settle in with the anger.

He definitely wasn’t in the mood to be lectured by King Dice. Not when he was about to go on a drinking spree to calm his nerves.

The Devil chugged down the bottle in his hands when King Dice stopped right next to him. The Die pulled out a cigar from his pocket, lighting it up as he dangled it between his fingers.

“Mad about the little dame that walked in?” the die rolled the cigar in his fingers as he watched his boss reach for another bottle after emptying the one in his hand. He knew well why the boss was angry about the little lady that walked in here, but he was well annoyed with his boss for draining half of the bar. Replacing the stock was going to be a pain, that's for sure.

“Shut up, Dice.” was all the Devil replied with as he knocked over one of the empty bottles next to him, the bottle instantly shattering when it hit the ground. A little imp quickly flew down from the ceiling to sweep up the mess, quickly letting out a tiny yelp as it narrowly avoided the Devil's kick.

King Dice rolled his eyes as his boss huffed when he missed kicking his minion, the large demon angrily growling at the imp to leave. The tiny demon quickly scampered off to one of the dark corners of the casino, and King Dice let out a sigh as the Devil swiped the cigar from his hand. He really wished his boss would stop acting like a child whenever he was angry- it would save the bar so much alcohol and spare him the pain of dealing with a moody Satan.

Knowing well the boss would continue despite his protests, the die moved behind the bar to pull out a bottle for himself. The last time he saw the Devil like this was when the cups actually managed to beat him, and he had to sit through an entire week of his boss grumpily drinking and snapping at anyone who crossed his path. It was a pain trying to keep the patrons from freaking out because of his temper tantrums, all while trying to power through the headaches that came with it.

If his boss was going to be difficult, he may as well take the edge off from dealing with him.

As the Devil watched the die in front of him pull out a glass, he idly swished the liquid in the bottle in his hand. His thoughts drifted back towards you, and he let out a growl.

He already knew something was up when he saw one of his imps run in with a shiny halo in its grubby little hands. It's been a while since he saw one of those, after all. Feeling a bit curious, he arose from his throne to prowl around his casino, spotting a white clad figure being dragged towards the bar by two familiar looking cups. He felt a surge of anger when he saw the two boys, but pushed that aside in favor for the little lady at the bar. She was sitting all alone, the cups she came in with nowhere in sight. The bird looked absolutely miserable sitting there, her head resting on top of her arms and her wings folding themselves in on her back. Frankly, she looked quite pathetic.

Even without the signature halo those flying rats wore, he recognized an angel when he saw one, as you looked incredibly out of place. You were just far too clean to be in here, the white feathers on your back reflecting it clearly.

Shortly after seeing her, he felt his blood boil. The big man upstairs had the fucking nerve to send down one of his minions to his territory under his nose. But he had to play it cool; He didn't want the angel to know that he was on to her right away, after all. Hell, he even offered the little lady some of the finest wine he had in stock, hoping that she would give in to temptation and take the bait. It would've been much more easier if she was intoxicated and spouting nonsense than sitting through the words of the lord. Plus it would've been much easier to snap her neck if she was drunk and unable to fight back.

He felt his annoyance grow when he noticed the untouched glass in front of her, slightly pissed at the fact that she wasted his stock. Nevertheless, he put on the friendly mask he prepared as he sat down on the stool next to her, already mentally preparing for her 'holier than thou' attitude. She looked incredibly uncomfortable when he sat next to her, but said nothing as she covered her nose with a gloved hand and turned away to search the crowd; likely looking for her friends. He felt slightly sick to his stomach as he tried to make small talk to her, the girl much more polite than he had anticipated. 

It was incredibly satisfying to see her tremble when he invaded her space, to see that tiny face of hers scrunch up in fear and discomfort. Then she just had to put her hands on him to get him away. He didn't hesitate in manhandling the angel even more as he picked her up by the arms, dangling her like a rabbit about to have its neck snapped by the hunter that caught it. He would've gladly done it, too, had it not been for the little shit with the bent straw throwing a bottle at him. The two had the gall to walk in, attack him in front of his customers and staff, then declaring that they could beat him again if they tried. Things definitely got worse when the bird broke loose from his grip, causing him to enter a bout of fury trying to trap her again. She was a lot more quicker than he had anticipated, as she flew around around like an annoying fly while avoiding his swipes. Then the annoying little cup shot at him with a pillar of milk, adding fuel to the fire.

When he had his back turned to charge at the red cup for interfering, the girl kicked him hard in the back. If it were anyone else, he probably would've applauded them for pulling such an underhanded tactic, but the fact that an angel got the drop on him really pissed him off. The idea of praising an  _angel_ made him sick to his stomach. He especially got angry when he felt her body brush against him as she went to grab her little friends, the sensation far too sickening for him.

What really put the cherry on top was the fact that she kicked him the face, the blow actually staggering him enough for them to slip away. The fucking humiliation of it all..

King Dice poured a glass of brandy as he watched the Devil take a hurried swig from the vodka bottle in his clawed hand and throw it on the ground when he finished it. He sighed as he rolled his eyes and shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his bow tie. The boss made an angry growl as he reached for another bottle and ignored the imp that came by to clean up the mess, far too angry to even indulge in torturing his imps. The die sighed as he folded the jacket and placed it on a unoccupied shelf under the counter, the heat emitted from the demon in front of him causing him to sweat slightly. He was in for a long night.

The Devil meanwhile steamed at the thought of the angel escaping him. He can just see the infuriating smile of triumph on the big man's face at the fact one of his angels escaped his grasp and nicked him slightly in the process, coming home unharmed except for the tiny cut on her cheek. King Dice failed him unsurprisingly there, too. 

He threw down another empty bottle as he can only imagine what the angel is planning. She was probably a scout trying to relay as much information as she can before Heaven sends down more pests. That got him to knock down three more bottles.

Just because he lost to a pair of cups a couple of months ago sure as hell doesn’t mean he was weak enough to let God of all people to try and take over his territory. He was the king of Hell and he claimed the Inkwell Isles as his territory. Nothing can ever change that, not even Heaven or the cups who got lucky. They can sure as hell try, but he knows he'll come out victorious in the end.

Taking a swig of the scotch in his hand, he mused to himself as he stared at the shelves lining the bar; ignoring the look King Dice sent his way.

He wasn’t going to take this insult lying down. He needed to show that he is still a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps he needs to pay a visit to the little angel that wandered into his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was writing this chapter, I actually had some trouble writing the Devil. He's a tricky one to write, I'll say. Hopefully I didn't write him too out of character, I tried to keep his interactions with Reader as in character as possible. And given how you're/Reader is an angel, I figured the Devil certainly wouldn't be happy to see you in Hell.
> 
> Though, he might change his tune about you in time.


	4. A Day at the Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you go for a day of fun at the fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy its been a while. Well, I suppose I can start off by apologizing for the long wait. Sorry about that! 
> 
> To tell you the truth, I've been feeling a little unmotivated as of late and as a result I've felt unsatisfied with my writing. It may have taken around five times of rewriting this until I felt satisfied with it. Thanks to a burst of motivation, I managed to finish this up for you guys.
> 
> Not much happens admittedly in this chapter this time, as this segways into another scene I have planned, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless!

“Hey, sis, do you wanna join me and Mugs today? We were thinkin’ of heading over to the theater house and watching Sally perform!”

You looked from the pancakes Elder Kettle made for breakfast, slightly surprised as you raised a hand in front of your mouth as you chewed.

“Oh, no. Sorry, Cuphead, I’m gonna have to turn you down there.” you tried your best to turn him politely as you can with a slightly full mouth.

Cuphead’s face took on a brief crestfallen look, slightly upset, but in a matter of seconds the cup nodded and put back on a smile on his face. He went back to quickly scarfing his food down, ignoring Mugman’s gentle chiding to not eat too fast.  
You can tell he was slightly upset at being turned down again, that he tried to remain understanding and not be bothered by it. It was easy to tell when he was a bit down.

It’s been a few days since the three of you spent some time together. Though you were sure you weren’t the only friend the brothers had, they always looked a little disheartened whenever you turned down their offers. Still, they bounced back fairly quickly right after.

If anything, you consider yourself lucky they still wanted to spend time with you after the whole Devil incident. You still felt incredibly guilty after the whole thing, not to mention more than a little worried about the beast showing up at any given moment. The day after you came home you spent your day keeping an ear open for anything strange nearby the windows, as you taken to staying inside while the boys went off to do some errands.

There wasn’t anything except for the breeze blowing through the trees, rustling the leaves gently, but you stuck to staying inside for the rest of the day anyway.  
It never hurts to be careful, right?

...Ok, so it may have also been a few days since you been outside of their home, but that was fine. You didn’t mind it, there were plenty of books in here to entertain yourself while your friends had fun outside.

Beside you at the kitchen table, Elder kettle let out a small hum as he took a sip from the coffee he freshly prepared earlier. He didn’t comment on your rejection, simply looking towards the young cup sitting across from him, causing the boy to look up from his plate, and nodding with approval. That made Cuphead’s smile grow wider as he excitedly nudged his brother, effectively making the other boy nearly spill syrup on the floor.

The four of you finished your breakfast in a comfortable air, your hosts filling the air with idle chit chat of plans and the weather for the day. You collected the tableware as Cuphead and Mugman excitedly rushed out of the front door, Mugman shouting out that he and Cuphead will be back by dinner time and the door slammed shut, leaving you with the old kettle.

With a simple sigh and a tiny smile at their youthful enthusiasm, you took the dirty dishes towards the sink and quickly set out to work. It was Cuphead’s turn to clean the dishes this morning, and you suspected his eagerness and early departure was an attempt to avoid doing chores, but you couldn’t say much about it now.

You removed the frilly gloves you had on, placing them beside you on the counter as you turned on the sink. Grabbing a plate, you let out a quiet hum as you began cleaning, your thoughts drifting as you wiped away.

Around three or four days have passed since your little casino escapade, the entire event affecting you much more than your willing to admit. You just about had the living daylights scared out of you that day and you rushed home still holding the boys as you slammed open the front door. Elder Kettle had started from his nap on the couch, quickly looking over to see your out of breath state and frowned.

It wasn’t out of anger, or disappointment like you first suspected, but out of guilt. You of course remembered the pure guilt that flooded your chest as you breathlessly tried to apologize to your hosts, still winded from frantically flying home, but Elder Kettle simply hushed you and gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.

“I suppose I have some explaining to do, as my silence has ended up hurting you” the old man’s words echoed in your head as you placed a wet plate onto the drying rack next to you

You remembered he was very quiet for a few moments, seeming unsure of himself at first. There was a look of discomfort on your friends’ faces, as they nervously glanced off to the side whenever you looked to them. Completely overwhelmed from the secrecy and tense air, you remember how stunned you were from it all. Everyone seemed to be tight-lipped about something, neither of your hosts saying a thing.

Elder Kettle was the first to speak, moving towards you and the boys on the couch.

“I was hoping you would never have to meet that fiend.” He quietly murmured as he slowly approached, his cane making a low thump when he stopped in front of you. From there, the truth trickled from a small stream to a waterfall in a matter of seconds.

He first confessed to withholding information from you, how there was an entrance to Hell through the cave, never once mentioning it when you asked about your presence being a big surprise here. He had hoped that there wouldn’t be a need for that kind of information, in the hopes that you would stay away if you were to ever stumble upon it. You can definitely tell he was kicking himself over all of this, a semblance of shame and annoyance towards himself in his tone as he continued.

Then he told of you of the Devil, the man who attacked you.

You already had a basic understanding of who he was after the casino escapade- king of hell, an absolutely brutal man who cares little for others- but you never knew just how hard he fell from his previous influence on the islands. Until about a month ago, The demon used to freely reign terror over the islands, holding many island residents hostage via soul contracts; effectively trapping themselves in debt.

And then one day he gotten a hold of the cup brothers’ souls after Cuphead had lost them in a bet. Soon the boys were forced to hunt down the Devil’s runaway debtors in order to save their own.

You remember feeling your heart drop when you heard the news, worry instantly filling you at the thought of your friends getting hurt. Though, that worry was short lived when Elder Kettle told you that the boys had faced off against the demon and won, freeing everyone on the islands from their debt. Mugman’s declaration back at the casino finally made sense when you heard this. Worry soon gave way to amazement and shock.

The fact that the Devil was beaten down by two children was both amazing and terrifying. Just how strong were those two? All that time spent with those cups and worrying about them whenever they went off by themselves… Looking back on it now, you feel a little silly. Perhaps they didn’t need you mothering them so much?

You found yourself frowning slightly as you grab another dirty plate. They were more than capable of taking care of themselves, that you can tell from firsthand experience. Though surely it would help to have another person taking care of them, right? You scrub vigorously at the plate in your hand, frown growing.

‘They already have Elder Kettle to watch them,’ a small, bitter part of you reasoned, ‘What about you, though? If anything you’re the one they’re taking care of-

The sound of a chair scraping loudly against the floor startled you out of your reverie, causing you to drop the plate you were holding into the soap-filled water below. Elder Kettle’s cane thumped against the floor, and you to turn to see the old man approaching. He looked up, his mustache curling upwards slightly as he smiled.

“Care for some help?”

You flush slightly, not wanting to trouble him. “Oh, no, thank you, Elder Kettle. I can-”

“Oh hush, its fine, dear. You’ve been overwhelming yourself lately,” you felt the blush grow worse at his friendly, yet firm response. As much as you’d hate to admit it, he has a point.

After the casino incident, you’ve taken it upon yourself to make it up to your hosts, as you probably troubled them greatly with your little adventure. For the past few days, you pretty much just about did most of the chores around the house, behaving more like a maid rather a guest.

The boys were surprised and slightly pleased at first, grateful that they had more time to play. Though after a day of working away as a maid they quickly grew worried, often offering to take over whatever chore you were working on. Elder Kettle was immediately suspicious of your behavior from the start, and although he was thankful, he often had to remind you to take a break. And you always did when reminded, but those breaks never lasted longer than a few minutes before going off to finish up.

Admittedly, you may have worn yourself out frequently over the past few days, but you couldn’t really complain about it. You owed it to them, after all.

But before you can feebly argue, the kettle moved next to you to grab a wet plate from the rack and asked you to hand him one of the dry towels in the cabinet above you. It didn’t seem he was going to back down anytime soon.

“I-ah,” you clear your throat, “If you insist, Elder Kettle.”

The man next to you let out a tiny hum of victory as you handed him one of the fluffy towels from the cabinet, proceeding to dry off the wet plate he grabbed. Your gaze briefly stayed on the man’s pleasant expression, the kettle not at all bothered by the extra labor.

He began to hum a song you don’t recognize as he dried away at the plates you cleaned, his mustache still upturned. With a shake of your hand and a tiny smile, you turned back to the sink in front of you and continued your task. It was hard to be upset when there was a happy old man helping you.

A comfortable air fell between the two of you, the air quiet save for the sounds of the sink running and Elder Kettle’s humming. You weren’t sure how much time passed while you scrubbed away, completely absorbed in trying to scrape off food, but before you knew it the last plate was dried and placed away in the cabinet with the others.

With a small sigh, you dried your hands on your wings, as you didn’t want to get your dress wet. The cream colored sundress (graciously provided by your generou  
s host) you picked out today was far too pretty to ruin. And the thought of sullying a gift from Elder Kettle upsets you.

As you put your gloves back on, Elder Kettle made a pleased hum as he finished checking over the cleaned tableware, closing the wooden cabinets with a gentle thud. He turned back over to you, cane still in hand, a small smile on his face.

“I believe that’s just about everything. Now, I don’t believe I have anything else for you to do,” he shot you a small look when he said this, as if expecting you to offer to do something again for him like you’ve been doing for the past few days. “That is, unless you’d like to join me in the living room. This old man could use some company” his smile returned.

You gave a somewhat sheepish smile in return, nodding your head. “That would be lovely, sir.”

It didn’t take much time for the two of you situate yourselves in the other room; Elder Kettle settled himself down on his armchair with the radio faintly playing in the background, and you were on your knees in front of the bookshelf, heavy book in hand. You glance back to the man behind you, the kettle simply smiling at you before picking up the newspaper Mugman brought in earlier from the coffee table. The crinkle of paper filled the air, and your host was soon occupied with today’s recent events.

Looks like the both of you were busy reading this morning. Nothing in mind to chat about, you turned back to the heavy book in hand. Opening up the slightly worn red hard cover, you turned to where you left off. It wasn’t spectacular by any means, but it was a still a fairly enjoyable read.

…At least, it would be a lot more enjoyable if you were able to focus. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there, but with a glance to the clock you realized about five minutes have passed and you were still stuck on the same page.

Normally you enjoyed reading from your host’s collection, but the words on the page in front of you simply weren’t sticking, causing you to start over many times. You felt restless, the itch to do something bothering you fiercely. Placing a bookmark down, you shut the book with a thud, the noise much louder than you intended.

Well, so much for reading away your thoughts..

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Elder Kettle’s sudden question made you turn to face him, the kettle staring at you with a slightly concerned expression. He gestured towards the couch across the room, urging you to sit down. Well, nothing certainly escaped his notice.

Not in the mood to try and argue with him, you take his suggestion and sit down. Though after a few seconds of your foot tapping against the floor, you moved to lay down, your head resting on the arm of the couch as Elder Kettle patiently waited for you to get comfortable.

When you finally settled down, Elder Kettle wasted no time; “Are you feeling alright, dear?”

“I’m fine, Elder Kettle. Just a bit...tired is all.” Both of you knew that was a lie. The hesitation was a dead giveaway. Heck, the fact that you even hesitated at all made it obvious.

He ‘hmmed’, a small frown on his face. “You sure about that? It looks like something more is bothering you.”

You found yourself fiddling with the gold chain around your neck, the cross swaying. You were afraid to admit it, well, more like you’d hate to admit it, but your encounter with the Devil not too long ago may have shaken you up a little bit. Well, maybe more than a little, but you don’t want to worry your host. Still, you weren’t sure if lying would be of any help, considering that the kettle already knew something was wrong. And you were a terrible liar.

Elder Kettle firmly called your name, causing to look up. “You know, there’s nothing to be ashamed of here. The boys and I can tell there’s something wrong.”

Warmth filled your cheeks, but you continued to remain silent as the man across from you continued.

“Dear, are you still reeling from meeting that fiend?”

At that you frowned, but nodded as you looked down at the swaying cross. The heat in your cheeks grew as your host sighed, his frown growing worse in concern. Guilt filled your being, and you already began to regret admitting your fears. No doubt you only added to his list of worries from your confession.

The old man shook his head, sighing. You gulped and licked your lips, a reassurance ready. “It’s no big deal, sir. If anything I probably was a huge inconvenience to you and the boys after my idiotic curiosity-”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” he cut you off, his brows furrowed in a mix of frustration and worry. “The boys told me you went in because you hoped it would help you remember, correct?”

A chill ran down on your spine, then a burning sensation settled over your form. Whether it be from guilt or frustration, a pain formed in your chest, and your eyes grew watery as you looked back to the chain on your neck. You nodded. It was the reason you were curious in the first place, after all.

Though instead of a lead on who you were, you ended up remembering about a place that you weren’t welcome in, and had the unfortunate chance of personally meeting its ruler.

The venture was only a useless endeavor, and in the end you were punished for it. A scar, though tiny, was what you had to pay for.

Suddenly the burn began to grow worse. You don’t think you’ve felt this awful since the casino, but somehow the sensations felt ten times worse. At least back there it was likely due to the demonic energy, but here? Elder Kettle tensed across from you, his brows creased in worry. Seeing the pure concern on his face made you feel worse.

A tense silence fell between the two of you, covering the air like a thin, suffocating sheet. He desperately wanted to say something, but all he could do was remain silent as you tried to regain your composure. Your hand tightly clutched the cross pendant, the metal biting in the palm of your gloved hand, the other fiddling with the chain as you avoided looking at the kettle across from you.

Your tongue felt heavy and useless as you laid there, the couch fabric suddenly felt like needles dragging across your skin. All you could do was sigh and slowly breath in, desperately trying to regain composure. The entire time Elder Kettle watched, patiently waiting as you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply.

“I did. It wasn’t much help though, sir.” your voice croaked.

“I can see that, dear.” he sighed sadly as he raised a hand to his mustache. His eyebrows were still creased in concern as looked off to the side, staring at the ancient grandfather clock nearby.

He silently ran through the stiff bristles, conflict radiating off him. After a few moments, he looked back to you. “It must be very...agonizing not knowing you are,” he gave a weak, comforting smile as you nodded, “but memories are a very fickle thing, dear. If anything, our best course of action is to wait it out and see.”

“But what if I never remember anything?” you felt a cocktail of emotions at this point, desperation and fear invoking doubt.

The kettle frowned, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” the pure sincerity made your heart hurt, “but I’m afraid this is all we can do. Perhaps it's similar to your physical injuries, just give it some time to heal.” He gave you a hopeful smile. “People say time heals all wounds, after all.”

Not fast enough the bitter part of you rasped. However, you knew this was probably the best way. That doesn’t mean you necessarily liked it, though. You glanced over to the kettle, the heat subsiding slightly. He really was far too nice to you, but you weren’t complaining whatsoever.

It felt nice to have someone care about you, after all.

For your sake and his, you’ll put aside your worries for now. You can think about it another time, when it’s late at night and can’t sleep.

With a small sigh, you moved into a sitting position. The slightly scratchy cloth of the couch itching your bare legs as you slowly moved to get up from the couch, adjusting your halo all the while. The ring’s slightly warm touch brought some comfort to you. And after the short emotional rollercoaster you went through, you think you needed it.  
After smoothing the creases out of your dress, you gave the man across you a grateful smile.

“Thank you, Elder Kettle.” you tentatively moved forward to wrap your arms around him in a hug. It was a bit silly to be so nervous about hugging someone, as if after all this time you were expecting him to suddenly drop the nice act and act coldly.

You thankfully gotten none of that as can feel the kettle smile widely and gently chuckle. He was delightfully warm as he returned the embrace, a cloud of steam puffing from his nose from happiness as he gently patted your shoulder.

Elder Kettle was the perfect hugging temperature, you found out during your embrace. The two of you held on for a few seconds before departing, the old kettle giving you one last pat on the shoulder as he let go.

“It’s no trouble, dear. The boys and I worry about you, don't you know?“ the matter-of-fact tone coupled with the gentle smile he had on his old tin face filled your chest with pleasant warmth.

He certainly always knew what to say whenever you were down, as you could feel a smile beginning to form. The traces of hurt and stress were still there, but they were faint now. 

Spirits slightly improved, you glanced towards the window. The day was still young, sunlight shining brightly as you observed a few people pass by.

Perhaps you should go outside, too? It did look quite nice out and it has been a while since you left the house. Maybe some fresh air can help you out?

As if sensing your thoughts, the old kettle gently made a playful shooing motion towards the door. “Go ahead,” he hummed, “You deserve a break from all the work you’ve been doing.”

You flushed slightly, flustered and wondered if you were really that obvious, but you gave him a grateful nod in return. He wasn’t exactly wrong there, as you can’t really remember when was the last time you took a break that lasted longer than five minutes. The grandfather clock suddenly let out a loud chime as the cuckoo bird squawked, causing you to look over.

You looked down towards the glass plane of the clock’s body, the sight that greeted you in the glass caused to flush slightly. It appears your time laying on the couch caused your hair to stand up oddly, some of the strands poking up to touch the ring above your head. Well, you knew what the first thing you had to do before you left was.

Ignoring the tiny chuckles from the elder near you, you trudged over to the stairs, glancing back to the see the man wave at you. You snorted out a tiny laugh.

“You’re quite eager to get me out of the house,” you found yourself joking as you stood at the foot of the stairs.

“Well, you have been in here for a few days, sweetheart.”

Elder Kettle laughed at the tiny huff you made and your reddening ears. He didn’t have to point that part out. Even if he was right.

“Y-you certainly don’t pull any punches, sir” you ignored the heat in your face as you climbed halfway up the creaky staircase. He chuckled.

“I could be worse if you like, dear. Or I can just bring in Cuphead to scold you.”

“No, thank you.” you responded quicker than you could think. You don’t think you can handle another one of Cuphead’s teasing sessions. Especially when you looked like this. Oh, you can just hear the names he can come up with in your head right about now, and you shivered in grimace.

That got the old man to laugh harder as you rushed up the rest of the way. You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, internally thankful for the old man’s naturally jovial nature. Mood improved, you opened up the door to your room with a small hum. It was a bit dark and hard to see, but that was quickly fixed by opening up the curtains. The light soon showed the piles of books strewn about the room, causing you to wince and wonder when was the last time you cleaned.

With a mental apology to Elder Kettle, you turned your sights towards the dresser and found your hair brush sitting on the top. The bristles forcing your hair down stung slightly when you as you ran them through your hair, but the sight of your neatly brushed hair was worth it. Looking around your room, you dug out your heels from a pile of books and put them on.

You may have stumbled a bit putting them on. And you may have a tripped a little while trying to walk in them after going a while without wearing them, but the elevated height made it worth it.

Staring into the mirror, you smiled at the woman in the mirror. The tiny scar on her cheek did nothing to take away from her neat appearance, daresay you think it actually adds to her charm. The outfit may have been a bit plain, the only thing really standing out being the cross, but you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care. You smile widely, curtsying at your reflection with a tiny giggle.

The fact that you looked pretty cute was a big confidence booster, giving that extra boost you needed before you went out. It’s actually been a while since you felt this excited for anything.

With one last approving nod and a giddy smile, you grabbed your bag from the foot of the bed and rushed down the stairs. Ignoring Elder Kettle’s guffaw when you stumbled slightly down the stairs thanks to your heels, you gave him a rushed exclamation that you’ll be home around the same time as the boys.

He shook his head as he playfully shooed you out the door, sending you off with a simple “have fun!”

“I will!” you replied as you shut the door behind you. Taking in a deep breath, you looked around the area. It seemed that it was just about the perfect day; the sun was shining, there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and it seemed even the people were in a cheery mood today.

A pair of flower men passed by you, the men briefly looking up towards you and waving with a tiny smile before trudging off. A mother hen clucked a greeting as she passed, a train of chicks following her. Even her children peeped a tiny, high pitched ‘hello’ to you.

You weren’t even a step away from the house and you felt delighted. Why haven’t you gone out sooner? Thinking about it now, you felt downright ridiculous for not leaving the house for three days straight

...Actually thinking about that now, that’s actually fairly concerning of you. You shake your head. Oh, well, you suppose what’s done is done.

A tiny pep in your step, you found yourself humming a tiny tune as you walked along the dirt path of the first island. You can hear people greeting you as you walked past, all of them in varying degrees of cheeriness. Glancing by, you catch sight of a flower field with a large carnation rooted in the middle watering the plants around him.

Oddly enough, even Cagney looked to be in a good mood, too. And he was always a huge grump. According to Cuphead that is.

Instead of a customary grunt like you’d usually get when you see the grouchy flower, he briefly looked up from a patch of petunias in front of him and made eye contact with you. The flower blank, stuck in surprise for a few seconds before shaking his head. He still grunted, but with the of a addition of a tiny, slightly awkward wave and a half smile. 

Well, at least he’s trying.

Slightly surprised, you smiled and waved in return, causing the flower to flush slightly and return to his gardening. He began to whistle as you passed by him and the noise soon became distant as you walked towards the large marble bridge to the second isle. Even at the other end of the bridge you can smell the sugary smell of funnel cake.  
Staring at the fairgrounds not too far off, you frowned.

A part of you hoped that the baroness cooled off during your absence. You were in the mood for a day at the fair, and you’d really like to keep your head for it. Given your circumstances, it probably wasn’t worth dying just to have some cheap carnival food and a couple of balloons.  
Weighing your options for a brief second, you decided to go through with it anyway. At least you’d go out with a stomach full of sweets rather than losing it to a roller coaster.

The tiny clicks of your heels hitting against the stone was soon muffled by the loud shrieks and laughter of children. Even from the entrance you can see the crowds of people gathered around the multiple tents and attractions everywhere and their voices blended into a jumbled mess of carnival noise. It was incredibly overwhelming the first time, but you grew used to it now.

A lanky fellow with a bright blue balloon on a string for a head handed you your ticket for the day, cheerily telling you to have a nice day. You thanked him and hummed as you went through the entrance, greeted by the sight of crowds of people just about everywhere.

The small colorful tables lining the entrance were packed with couples, friends, and families alike, all of them looked completely thrilled to be here. It may be a bit cheesy on your end, as Cuphead would probably say, but the sight of seeing so many people so content here warmed your heart.

Especially with the families. The thought of the children having something fond to look back on couldn’t help but give you the “warm fuzzies” as Cuphead would say. Gazing over to a pair of brothers and their parents, you couldn’t help but wonder how the boys were doing.

No doubt they were enjoying themselves at the playhouse, as apparently the Sally they talked about was a gifted actress and incredibly friendly to boot. Still, not having the brothers with you felt strange. You don’t think you ever left the house without the boys or Elder Kettle with you.

Thinking about it now, did you even have any friends other than the brothers and Elder Kettle? You suppose Cagney liked you, but the two of you don't exactly talk that often. And the few, rare times you did the conversation was one sided as the flower only made a few grunts. No one else really came to mind after that.

Well, they weren’t here right now, and that’s fine. It’s not like you need to be have them with you to have any fun. It’s absolutely fine.

Shaking your head, you ignored the tiny knot of pain in your stomach.

Perhaps you won’t feel as lonely if you stuffed your face with some sugary treats.

Almost on cue, the wind picked up suddenly, carrying with it the sweet, tempting scent of sugar. Growling filled the air, causing an old woman passing by to giggle and give you an amused look. Oh. Maybe you were hungrier than you thought, too.

She must have had some sympathy for you, as she soon pointed you to a small cart nearby. You thanked her for the help and left with burning cheeks as your stomach continued to groan like a dying whale.

You can hear the tiny giggles of the elder fade as you scuttled away, your wings bobbing slightly. A few people turned to stare as your stomach kept growling loudly, leaving you to internally curse for not eating enough at breakfast. You’d think a few pancakes would fill you up, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Seeing the chipped red paint of the small snack cart sent a wave of relief over you as your stomach’s growling seemed to dull in volume, pleased that you’ll eat something. The exchange between the vendor and you was brief, as you simply wanted to sate your appetite and the old man handling the sugar looked to be too tired for conversation. Handing over the coins from your bag, a paper plate of unhealthy goodness was in your hands.

A slightly rickety looking bench stood nearby and you soon sat down. Humming, you ripped off a piece and let out a groan of bliss when you the sugar hit your tongue. Unhealthy or not, it felt good to indulge yourself every now and then. Especially now after all those days of playing maid.

Not far off you can see a family; and you quickly recognized them as the same one with the pair of brothers back at the gate.

One of them shouted something about how great this place was, the other shortly shouting an agreement right after. Their mother, a bubbly blonde woman of around thirty, tittered at her children’s enthusiam, and their father, a burly looking bear of a man, chuckled and promised to take them again if they be good.

The funnel cake seemed to lose its sweetness right then. Well, at least you’re not hungry anymore, you suppose. Sighing, you leave the slightly greasy plate on the empty spot next to you.

It was probably a bit silly to lose your appetite over something so small, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. They were happy, no doubt. And here you were alone. The knot from before tightened in your stomach.

You leaned back against the bench. There wasn’t anything to be really upset about; yet here you were, not having any fun at the carnival. Sighing, you cupped your face in your hands.

“Yer lookin’ real sad there, miss” a slightly muffled voice noted.

Looking up, a tiny black goat was now sitting next to you on the bench; your funnel cake in his lap and his tiny hooved hands breaking it apart. He tossed a piece into his mouth, wide, yellow eyes staring up at you. The boy didn’t look bothered or guilty for stealing your food. Curiosity instead shining in those doe-like eyes of his.

He had a bit of a baby face, his cheeks still round and plump from youth. Blinking, he tilted his head slightly, confused at your silence. There you noticed the tiny horns on his head, the nubs barely poking out of his short fur.

Shaking your head, you looked down at him. Where he came from or when he got here, you weren’t sure. What you were sure is that he’s eating the food you paid for.

“It’s not exactly nice to eat someone else’s food, you know” you tried to sound as stern as possible, annoyance laced in there for extra effect.

Tiny lips formed an equally tiny pouty frown.

“Well, you weren’t exactly gonna finish it, were ya?” he shot back with a bratty expression, tossing another piece in his mouth for good measure. Brows knitting, you frowned. Oh boy. This was going to be fun. Already you can feel a headache come on.

“True, just, just...” you sigh, “Just ask, okay? I would’ve shared it with you.”

Any form of ire you felt died quickly as it came. You leaned further onto the back of the bench with a sigh, the tiny goat’s gaze burning into your cheek. Cuphead would probably would’ve called you a wimp for backing down so easily, but you honestly didn’t care too much. It was too much effort to try and scold someone on your break.

Tiny hooves scraped against the paper plate next to you. He opened up his mouth as if to say something, but stopped and looked at the plate on his lap. Through the corner of your eye his shoulders slumped slightly, his brows furrowed. His mouth curved into a tiny frown as he stared at the half eaten funnel cake.

Whatever reaction he was expecting, he didn’t get it. You can faintly see him lick his lips as he sat there. Then he frowned before tossing the plate of food on ground while muttering under his breath.

Welp, there goes a few coins down the drain.

He turned to face you with calculating eyes. You can feel his stare roam over you, briefly stopping at the cross on your neck and halo. All the while you watched him out of the corner of your eye, goosebumps along the bare skin of your arms. For an unknown reason, you didn’t like him staring at you- his gaze somehow felt invasive despite his age.  
A few moments passed before he narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously.

“Yer lonely, aren’t ya? Some boy leave you or something?” his tone was both curious and oddly smug.

In a matter of seconds, fire lit up your face and you choked on your spit. Out of all the possibilities he could think of he had that?

“E-excuse me?” the question came out more as a rushed shout than a normal response. A few people turned to look at you, causing the fire in your face to grow worse. Mischievous glee was obvious in his eyes, a tiny smirk etched onto his face. Clearly he was enjoying your embarrassment.

“Well?” he cooed.

“Oh for the love of- No, that’s not it.” you rubbed at your temples.

It was way too early for a headache. You can hear him snickering at your misery next to you, eyes almost glowing with mirth. Not exactly a pure reason to laugh, but at least one of you was having fun. Your patience was beginning to run thin, however.

“Where exactly are you parents?” you changed the subject quickly. No way a child needs to know about your nonexistent love problem. And even if you did have one- you wouldn’t tell him. More importantly, you needed to return him to his parents so he wouldn’t harass any other unsuspecting carnival goers.

The goat beside you made a frustrated huff, annoyed at your dodging. Though it didn’t take long for him to perk up, his demeanor doing a complete 180 turn as a bright smile formed. His hooved feet scraped against the bench as he turned so his whole front faced you.

“No clue! Mind helping me out?” he sounded awfully calm for someone who lost his parents. Cheery, almost.

Though, everyone probably coped in different ways, you suppose. Even like acting like nothing was wrong. Still, wariness already began to seep through. You had to be on the lookout for him now apparently.

“I, ah,” you drifted. You fumbled with the hem of you dress and breathed in deeply. You felt something was strange about the whole situation, but if he was telling the truth… You glance towards him. Oh dear he was making puppy dog eyes at you. When he noticed that he had your attention, those bright eyes of his seemed to grow bigger. Biting the inside of your lip, you weighed your options. The boy next to you was a strange one no doubt, and apparently needed your help.

Though the longer you sat next the more fishy the whole thing seemed. Tiny, dull horns soon bumped into your bare arm, the tiny goat giving you a helpless look as he looked up at you. He was really laying it on you. Gulping, you sighed. If really he needed to go through the trouble of convincing you that way, you may as well help him. Clearing your throat, you try to look as stern as possible.

“Very well, but please don’t go stealing anything else.”

Almost instantly he bleated out in joy, his tail wagging as he jumped off the bench.

“Thanks! Ya mind following me? My parents told me to meet them at the house of mirrors if I lose ‘em,” he reached to grab your hand, the hoof stiff against your hand.

Slightly overwhelmed, you gently grabbed his smaller hand as you got up. The boy was much shorter than you, standing at around the same height as Cuphead and Mugman. He looked up at you, a pleasant smile on his face as he hopped a little on his feet.

“Come on!” he pulled at your arm while pointing off to a brightly colored building. “It’s not that far off from here!”

And he was right; a deep red building stood nestled between two other tents, a bright white fence in front of it. Red brick walls made up the sides of the building, large murals of ads for the major attractions painted on both of them. The front looked to be entirely made of mirrors, as you can see distorted reflections of people and buildings the closer you get. It was a bit hard to make out where the door was, but you quickly found the tiny doorknob of the entrance.

Scanning the front, you felt your heart drop when you found no employee tending the area.

Alarm bells were already faintly ringing when the child holding your hand asked you to follow him. The fact that there wasn't worker available to watch over the place only made those bells ring louder. It certainly didn’t help that the boy looked unbothered by it all, even casually whistling the closer you got.

He paused his whistling when the two of you stopped in front of the small attraction and you quickly moved towards a small bench near the door. There’s no way you’re going any further near that building. Not when you’re alone with no one to possibly help you.

“O-ok, I believe this is far enough. I don’t want to your parents to be angry with you, so how about we just-”

“Hey, it looks like the dummy working here left the door unlocked!” you internally cursed as the tiny clip clops of his steps grew duller.

You turned from the bench to see that he already had the door open, the glass reflecting a distorted and disgruntled angel. All you can see was his tail high up in the air wiggling as he giggled, joy radiating off him. If it were any other time, this might’ve been cute. However, you found yourself making an inhumane noise as you rushed to grab his shoulder. You can already feel a hysterical laugh forming as you frantically scanned the area. There’s no way you’re getting in trouble because of this kid.

“Look, you really shouldn’t-”

“Oh come on,” he cut you off again with a whine, “Its not like my parents are gonna come right away!”

He opened up the door wider, showing off pitch black darkness. You gulped, the sight making the bells evolve into a loud, wailing siren as the tiny goat trotted into the darkness- his black fur blending in near perfectly. All you could faintly make out was the soft clops of hooved feet.

Suddenly the boy froze, turning quickly to face you. He tilted his head, a tiny frown marring his face.

“Aren’t you coming in? It’s no fun playing by myself.”

Your stomach sank as he trotted back to you, wide eyes shiny with sadness. He reached up to grab your gloved hand. The sunlight from behind you only shined on half of body, leaving his top half to be obscured by the darkness of the building. This wasn’t right, none of this was right. Heartbeat pounding against your ribcage, you felt a trail of cold sweat fall down your cheek as you stared down at boy with wide eyes.

“I-”

Pure pain rushed up your arm as his grip suddenly grew tight, causing you to gasp. The hooves holding you captive slowly split into fleshy growths, morphing and changing grotesquely until they formed a small grey hand. Sharp talons soon pierced through grey weathered skin with a sickening tear, the claws digging through your glove as you struggled in his grip. Your hand trapped in a beartrap tight grasp, you looked up to the goat’s face, and your stomach dropped at the sight of those yellow eyes brightly glowing in the darkness.

“Play with me” a voice far too deep for a child rasped. He grinned, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth.

The world around you was covered in darkness as he pulled you in harshly, a scream trapped in your throat. Then the door slammed with a low, resounding thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the Devil returns! Even writing him in disguise is challenging, but I hope I managed to keep him entertaining enough for you guys!
> 
> Comments/Criticisms are welcomed, as I want to ensure that the quality is great for you guys!


	5. The Best Surprises Come In Small Packages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Devil is met with an unpleasant surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry it took a while to update guys- I admittedly had a bit of trouble writing out this scene, as the Devil is still a bit hard to write for me. Especially considering how I'm supposed to keep him in character while making sure he's still likable. I pretty much took up quite the challenge writing this fic, I suppose.
> 
> Also, a bit of a warning for this chapter: there's some minor violence towards the Reader here. The Devil isn't exactly a very nice guy to begin with, and he's trying to kill you here. Please tread with caution if something like this is a sensitive topic for you!

You wanted nothing more than to let out a scream, but your throat felt uncomfortably tight; clogged up from fear. The urge to flee was running at an all time high, yet your legs and wings felt heavy and useless as you stood dumbly in the dark. The wailing siren going off in your head was now loud enough to ring your ears had it been real. Unconsciously, you feel your legs begin to shake as you felt your breath quickening. 

The musty air of the dark building did nothing to quell your nerves. You coughed slightly from the dust floating around in the air, causing the goat to chuckle.

It was incredibly hard to see or make out anything in the darkness of the building you were dragged into. Even with the light of your halo, you can only make out things right in front of you. And the sight of your attacker- one whose eyes glowed brightly in the darkness around you- was definitely not a welcome one.

Your tongue felt heavy and dry as you felt his gaze on your face, his stare burning holes into your head from how determined he looked. The wide grin on his face felt hollow and empty, while the look in his eye held a barely contained feral rage. 

Realization crashed into you hard like a speeding train. The last time you’ve seen that look was not too long ago….You felt your heart sink further.

It wasn’t just any old demon that trapped you- it was the very man, the very fiend that attacked you back at the casino

This wasn’t good. 

This really, really wasn’t good. 

You can hear the chi- Devil giggle as you gulped, the noise mocking and deep and absolutely not right for the age of his disguise.

Something tells you aren’t going to walk away from this encounter unscathed. And you couldn’t but silently beg- no, pray- for someone to come help you.

You tried to pull your hand away from his grasp, as if trying to fight would make him give up. That only got him to break his wide grin as a horrible snarl contorted his tiny face as he dug sharp claws into your hand. 

Sharp pin pricks pierced through your gloves, causing you to gasp. You can feel the skin of your hand burn slightly and you let out a near inaudible whimper from the pain. His wide grin returned, satisfaction evident as it grew wider at your discomfort. He eased up on his grip slightly, still tightly keeping your hand captive; though this did nothing to calm the burn in your hand. 

You briefly glance down towards your hand. Through a thin gap between small, grey, leathery fingers, you can see beads of red beginning to form in previously white fabric. Gulping, you move your gaze back to his face, the wide grin unsettling you greatly.

Before you can try and get a better read on him, the demon holding your hand with his own mangled one let out a raspy chuckle; the noise sounded slightly muffled, as if you had cotton stuffed into your ears. It didn’t make the sound any less sinister, however. 

Bright yellow eyes glowed in the darkness in front of you, dimly illuminating the rows of sharp teeth of the goat’s wide grin. You can feel your heart racing a mile a minute, the organ threatening to burst free from your ribcage if it meant it would be away from the danger. The series of rapid thumps in your chest made you wonder if the thing- Devil, your mind corrected- can sense your fear.

Almost as if he sensed your thoughts, his grin widened further. Satisfaction bled into his smile, sadistic glee evident in his stare.

A tense silence between the two of you. You were extremely uncomfortable from it all, while the demon trapping you here looked completely unbothered. The only sounds that cut through were the distant joy-filled shrieks of carnival goers and your heart rapidly beating in your ears.

You licked your lips, mentally bracing yourself for the pain that was to come. No doubt he dragged you into this near empty building to kill you. 

The only thing you had left to do now is hope he makes it quick and painless. 

As you felt his grip on your hand grow tighter, you closed your eyes. You can feel your heart racing as you can feel hot tears begin to well up. You’ve made a horrible mistake letting your naivety get the better of you, cursing yourself for ignoring the warning signals. 

Hot breath fanned over your face, the stench of cigars and liquor heavy curled your nose slightly. The feather light touch of a claw trailed down your cheek and- unbeknownst to you- a small frown on the demon’s face.

Silence fell between you again. You kept your eyes tightly shut as you stood there, a hint of confusion forming. The previously ironclad grip on your hand loosened slightly, confusing you even further as the demon in front of you let out a small ‘hmm’.

He was taking an oddly long time to kill you, not that you were complaining about it whatsoever. Surely he hasn’t decided to spare you, has he? You’ve seen the look in his eye; the pure look of anger burning in the bright yellow fire. It didn’t look like he was going to give up anytime soon.

Anger and spite like that doesn’t just go away that easily; you were certain of it. Just what was he planning?

You were torn away from your confusion when you heard the sound of bones snapping. The hand holding yours grew larger and his tight grip returned. You can hear him begin to laugh again as the ground beneath you disappeared, causing you to gasp. In a matter of minutes you were dangling in the air by your wrist, the sharp-clawed hand easily encircling your smaller hand.

The demon laughed as you tried to squirm, the sound deep and threatening as he began to morph to his true form.

The sounds of bones snapping and flesh tearing harmonized to make a grotesque song, the raspy laughter of the demon grew louder as you tried to squirm in his grip as he grew to full height. Beads of sweat began to form on your forehead as the air grew much more warmer, rising to an unbearable heat the higher you were lifted off the ground.

A soft thud followed by a grunt echoed across the empty walls. At that moment you noticed the bone breaking and skin tearing has stopped, yet that has done nothing to quell your worries. It only served to make you even more afraid as you felt a sharp claw make its way back to your face.

The heat was near unbearable at this point, causing sweat to run freely down your cheek. It felt like you were locked into a furnace with how hot it was- the occasional cooler puffs of cigar-scented breath doing nothing to cool you down. A rough finger pad wiped away a drop of sweat sliding down your cheek, a deep ‘hmmm’ following after. 

You can imagine him rubbing the droplet between two fingers, possibly scrutinizing your scrunched up face as you started to tremble. A few feathers fell down past your shoulders as you felt the heat growing worse; at this rate, you felt like you were going to pass out before the demon had the chance to slaughter you.

Tears were threatening to squeeze past your eyes and you desperately tried to fight back a sob as you felt your body tremble harder. Somehow the weight of the situation hit you even harder than before, causing you to choke as you tried to muffle a rising sob.

You were trapped alone with an incredibly dangerous man, one that you hoped that you would never encounter again. You have no fighting experience whatsoever; this wasn’t his first time hurting someone- he definitely has done worse to others in the past. He didn’t hesitate when he scratched up your hand; no doubt he won’t hesitate going further.

Cuphead and Mugman were there to help you back at the casino. They were actually able to defend themselves despite their youth and inexperience; and they were far, far more braver than you were. The cups were far from helpless. Heck, they have actually beaten the Devil himself, for heaven’s sake! 

But they weren’t here this time. No one was with you this time. You were completely alone with no one to help you. 

You can feel hot, salty tears forcing themselves past your tightly shut eyes. Still, you refused to open them, nor did you let your sobs grow louder. If you were going to die, you wanted to hold on to the shreds of dignity you had left. 

There’s no way you’re letting him see you cry.

With a trembling lip and tightly shut eyes, you braced yourself for impact. You can feel hot breath fan over your face and something warm touch your nose. Cigar breath hit you directly as the Devil let out a long, low sigh, annoyance radiating heavily off of him.

“Y’know, doll,” he started as he trailed a claw over to your neck, sweeping down the column to the exposed skin of your collarbone, “I never took ya’ for a huge wimp.” 

He spat out the last part with bitterness, causing you to tremble slightly harder. However, you couldn’t deny that a bit of curiosity and confusion has planted itself in you. The thought of him even dwelling on you felt strange to you- and not in the good way.

You let out a tiny squeak when the Devil poked a sharp nail into your cheek, the claw drilling into the skin. He huffed, annoyance and a hint of disgust evident in his form. Thick, bristly fur brushed your wrist, the fur scrubbing harshly against your tender skin as he gently swung your form; you think he was opened his arms wide to gesture around him. 

“Where’s the birdy that had the balls to walk into my casino? My home?” your body swayed quickly as he swung his arms again. He took on a harsh tone, his words slightly rushed, as if he were rambling.

“Oh, don’t forget about the fact you tried to shove me the first time you met me. Ballsy, but real rude of you, by the way,” he squeezed your wrist harshly as you let out a snort, “And don’t tell me you forgot about the fact ya kicked me in the damn face.”

You felt something sharp poke at the bare skin of your ankles. Uncomfortable, you weakly kick away your foot to try and get away. Something thin and hot soon wrapped itself around your ankle. The Devil made an annoyed growl and drilled the claw deeper into your cheek.

“Oh no ya don’t. You got lucky last time, girly. That ain’t happenin’ again.” he paused briefly for a moment. 

Something pressed down lightly on the heel of your shoes. Then it lightly tapped against the spike before the tip of the limb (you think it’s a limb, anyway) disappeared after a few seconds. 

You hear a deep rumbling growl come from the Demon; you can sense his annoyance getting worse.

“Thing’s a damn weapon if I ever seen one” he muttered near inaudibly, muttering to himself in a displeased manner.

Before you can even wonder what he meant, the thin limb curled around your ankle suddenly tightened harshly, the heat and pressure causing you to wince and cringe from the pain. He clicked his tongue, the sound echoing in the tiny hallway.

“Ya know, I was really hopin’ this would be more fun,” you felt a large, hot hand drag itself down the column of your neck, “I was expectin’ the little angel who wandered into to my home to put up a little bit of a fight.”

Large fingers wrapped around your neck. Your stomach dropped.

“But this isn’t first time Heaven disappointed me. If anything, you at least stuck to the mold. Don’t feel too bad about it though, kid. You made it a lot more easier to do my job.”

He began to squeezing down. You choked a weak gasp as your eyes shot open, terror filling your body. The demon, who was practically nose-to-nose with you, backed away slightly.

Bright yellow eyes betrayed surprise. Though in the blink of an eye surprise melted into an emotion you couldn’t quite name. He looked oddly...fascinated? Though you weren’t quite sure, as he changed emotions on you again; fascination fading into the familiar sadistic glee you remembered from the casino.

“Oh, looks like we’re getting somewhere,” he grinned, “No screams for help? No last prayers?”

He cooed out the last word so sweetly that you felt sick to your stomach.

“Funny, I was expecting you to be beggin’ for those finks to come help you. What were their names again?” he gave you a cruel smile.

“‘Oh, Cupface, Mugboy, save me!’,” his voice took on a high-pitched exaggeration of your own before he let out a mocking raspy laugh, “Ah well, I guess I gotta give you some credit- at least you didn’t scream like I thought ya would.”

You can feel him begin to squeeze down harder on your neck and your heart sunk further as you rapidly blinked; desperate to keep your eyes open.

“That reminds me! I should probably pay a visit to those boys of yours,” you felt your blood grow cold, “I don’t really appreciate welps who humiliate me, you know.”

He laughed as you began to squirm, weakly glaring up at him. The idea of hurting your friends, who were merely a pair of children, upsets you greatly. You can still feel your heart beating rapidly, fear still weighing your legs down as you felt your chest tighten. At the very least, if it meant it would ensure the safety of the boys and Elder Kettle, you would gladly sacrifice yourself. 

But the thought of this man putting his slimy claws on them filled your body with heat. Pure, unrestrained heat that burned at the thought of someone hurting them.

“Especially ones who think they can walk away from me alive,” his pupils formed into a skull and crossbones as his voice went deeper beyond recognition, “I wonder...Those cups of theirs look awfully fragile, dontcha think?” His face contorted into an ugly smile, the wide grin on his face not unlike a dog bearing its teeth.

You weren’t sure if the heat you felt was from his own doing or from the feeling of your blood boiling in your veins, but you knew this; you were angry. Beyond angry, even; absolutely livid. 

Everything about this man at the moment just about enraged you; the stupid, smug looking shark’s smile on his face as he prattles on how he plans to pay back the boys for crossing him, how it was a shame you had to come down here only to die, but not to worry as he’ll give you a “nice burial” for your efforts (if having your wings mounted on a wall was considered a burial).

The fire in your stomach grew with every passing minute, and you wanted nothing more to shut him up. What certainly added fuel to the fire was the look in his eye: the look of absolute delight he had as he stared at you, grip tightening down on your neck. He enjoyed every little second of this, every little gasp or choke you made as you glared up at him. 

It was real cute of you, in his opinion. Adorably pathetic, too, considering how you’d meet your end soon by his own hands soon. Perhaps he should send your remains to Heaven? That would certainly show them for thinking they can walk into his territory without considering the consequences.

Still, he had to admit; it was extremely satisfying seeing you like this, all angry yet powerless to stop him as he watched you pale slightly as you struggled to keep consciousness.

“Really, I don’t know what the boss man upstairs was thinkin’ sending you down here all on your lonesome. Real stupid of him if you ask me,” he sighed, “Oh well. I guess things don’t always go according to plan, but hey; at least you died before you can weasel out any information to your friends from above.”

The demon let out a laugh, raising a clawed hand. You really wanted roll your eyes; heat wasn’t the only thing that radiated off him. Though that action seemed far too difficult for you now, as you gasped to try and force in a breath of air. 

He was taking an awfully long time to kill you. Earlier, the fact was terrifying to you, the thought of it instilling pure dread into your being. Yet now... Well, the black dots dancing around the corners of your vision, the little blots frantically moving and flying as if they were gnats ingrained into your eyeballs, were beginning to become annoying.

Not to mention the headache you had was extremely painful at this point, most likely from the lack of air in your system. You gasped in another gulp of air, still struggling as the man continued on. 

If it were any other time, like earlier, to be exact, you would’ve been afraid (rather than annoyed) and accepted your fate. But that time was over. The moment the very monster attacking you threatened your friends, who were mere children, filled you with the rush of a cocktail of emotions that gave you the strength to keep struggling.

The fact that he was taking his sweet time to carry this out made you come to some conclusions: The man tortured his victims slowly, either to take in their screams of agony and fear, or just took so long because he just wouldn’t shut up. Either way, it only made you angrier.

You really wanted to grit your teeth, but that would require a lot more effort than you were willing- or able- to give. All you had to focus on right now was trying to stay alive, but the man’s hot, iron grip on your neck made that more than a little difficult for you. 

A phlegmy gag forced its way out as you felt drool fall out of the corner of your lips. It was getting difficult to try and force any more air in your lungs, and this man just can’t stop talking-

“Real ballsy of ‘im to send you down here though. But if the old man honestly expects some little birdy to fly into my caves unnoticed.. Well, he’s probably a lot more dumber than I thought. All those years with his head in the clouds ain’t the best thing for a guy like him.”

Yep. He’s still going. At this point you were silently begging for someone to shut him up. Or you. You knew it was wrong to hit people, but this man was testing your patience.

Faintly, you feel your bag fall off your shoulders as your shoulders slacken a bit. This was bad. You can feel the darkness begininng to consume your vision as you feebly coughed and gagged. 

You really wished you understood what he was talking about, but his words seemed to strike a familiar cord within you. You knew it had something to do with your home, Heaven, and even as you struggled to breathe you tried to remember. But as you struggled, nothing came into mind. 

Sharp claws made their way to the column of you neck, teasing themselves as you felt them just barely poke into the flesh as he still constricted you.

The demon made a small huff, annoyance making its way to his face.

“Fucking hell you’re stubborn as shit. How long have I been choking you for now? Five minutes now?” he muttered quietly, more to himself than you.

“I don’t remember you little shits being this durable.”

He tightened his grip further, and you made a high-pitched squeak. The demon sniffed indignantly as he raised a brow. His mouth formed into a thin line as he glanced off to the side, examining a mirror close by.

“Ah well. You look like you’re going to tap out in a few,” he continued muttering to himself as you gagged, “Hm. Wonder how those boys and the old fart with them would react if I dropped by.”

A tiny smile made its way to his face as he huffed a tiny laugh.

“Probably not too well. But oh well, I’ll make it quick for them. For the old man at least. Those cups caused an awful lot of trouble.”

You felt sweat drip down your brow, and you felt that flame in your chest, the anger and the adrenaline that has been building up as you listened to this man drone on and threaten your surrogate family, finally explode. 

Suddenly the light of your halo became much more brighter, lighting nearly all of the hallway of mirrors. The demon let out a loud curse, loosening his grip from surprise. You squirmed hard enough to shake off his grip and desperately gasped in a lungful of air.

Before you could think twice and the man could get his bearings, you launched yourself forward with a hard flap of your wings.

The Devil didn’t even had the chance to react before you socked him in the face with all the force you had. You can feel your hand ache dully through the haze of anger and andrenaline, but you didn’t care as the demon flew back, startled.

He clutched his mouth tightly, his yellow eyes wide and pupils the size of pins as he stared down at you. You can faintly make out the shape of beady pupils squirm and shake wildly as they tried to stabilize themselves. He definitely didn’t expect any of that to happen, as he stood there dumb with shock.

Licking your lips, you felt your legs shake as you glared up at him with all of the anger you had. 

“Don’t you dare go near them,” you stomped a foot, the heel smashing harshly against the hardwood floor, “If you lay even one hand on those boys, I will personally slaughter you myself!”

You can feel your heart slamming into your ribcage as you glared at the man in front of you, your face burning as you tried to keep your composure. The rush of adrenaline was beginning to fade, leaving you trembling as you stood your ground. He still stood there stock still, his gaze burning into your face as you continued.

“A-and I have no idea what you’re talking about! I don’t even know why I’m here!” you cringed slightly when your voice cracked but you continued to shout at the demon in front of you, “I can’t even remember how I got here in the first place! So just, just, leave me and my family alone!” 

“If it’s the casino you’re mad about, than I’m sorry about that! If it makes you feel any better, I’ll happily stay away from it, it stinks in there anyway!” 

With that final statement, you fell silent, breathing heavily from frustration and anxiousness as you stared up at the demon. A part of you somewhere reasoned that this wasn’t you, that you weren’t a violent or petty person, but that part could frankly go stuff it right now. 

You were angry, and this demon tried to kill you and threatened to hurt your hosts for heavens sake! You had a right to be angry at this man!

Said man still hasn’t moved since you started and finished tirade, as he still stood there, unblinking as he continued to stare at you.

A few minutes of silence have passed by until the demon finally said something. 

He lowered his hand from his mouth, lips tightly pulled into a thin line as you watched his cheeks puff up as his tongue moved around in his mouth. Raising a hand to his chin, he suddenly spat out a sharp tooth into his large hand. His eyes widened slightly as he silently mouthed a ‘how the hell’ as he stared down at his hand, your face breaking its glare as your eyes mirrored his surprise.

You didn’t know you punched him that hard, and a part of you felt slightly bad. Only slightly, though.

Black pupils suddenly darted back to you, bright yellow eyes clouded over with a storm of emotions you couldn’t quite place. His thin lips tightened back into a line as he stared at you, eyes raking themselves over your form before stopping at your slightly reddened face. There you caught confusion drifting in his stare.  
He stood there silently as he observed you, his mouth drifting into a frown as his furrowed in annoyance.

“You being completely serious with me, birdy?” his eyes narrowed as his frown grew, baring his teeth at you, albeit now one smaller fang missing.

This time you didn’t hold back your scoff as you rolled your eyes. Even in the face of defeat the Devil couldn’t just be civil for one minute. 

“Why would I lie to you? Even if I was lying it wouldn’t be hard for you to know I was” you could feel your cheeks flush slightly as you indirectly admitted you were a terrible liar, but at this point you couldn’t really care; you just wanted to go home and sleep off the rest of the day before a migraine could set in.

The Devil snorted and shook his head. He looked back to the tooth in his palm, shaking hs head again as he closed his hand and muttered something along the lines of ‘sarcastic little shit’ before looking back to you. 

Eyes still narrowed, he searched for any sign of deception on your face before finally he let out a long, tired sounding sigh. He raised another hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, and through the glow your halo you notice the slight bags under his eyes. 

In the short amount of time you remembered and met him, the king of hell didn’t look quite as terrifying as he normally did. For a moment, he looked like a man that has dealt with many restless nights, no doubt trying to keep his business afloat in the fallout of his defeat. And for a brief moment, you felt a pang of sympathy for the Devil.

That was until he decided to open his mouth again. 

“Don’t you give me that look, I have no need for your pity,” he growled out as he stomped a foot forward, “ I don’t need any fucking pity from anyone, especially from an angel.”

You rolled your eyes as you looked away from the demon in front of you, any semblance of sympathy immediately gone. He just had to ruin it. Tapping your foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, you looked away from the Devil to look for your bag- which landed dangerously close to a mysterious puddle of some kind of beverage.

Sighing, you picked up the fallen bag off the floor, effectively cutting off the man from continuing.

“I understand that you, ah, hate me, because of our differences,” the Devil rolled his eyes at the side of your face, “but I happen to have a name, you know. The least you could is use it, please”

It was probably pointless being polite to the literal Devil, but you really didn’t have any energy left to care. You just hoped that Elder Kettle wouldn’t mind the fact that you weren’t gone for very long and wouldn't notice the bruises that likely formed on your neck.

As you slung the satchel bag over your shoulder, you glanced back to the demon behind you. His face had took on a neutral expression as he stared at you, but you could tell he was none too happy about this- that you were still alive. You sighed as you turned away towards the door; well, he just had to deal with his loss for now.

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you made your way to the entrance, the door surprisingly unlocked. With one last turn to him, you sighed and bid him goodbye. 

He simply stood there in the darkness as he watched you open the door, sunlight flooding into the building and the shrieks of carnival goers greeting his ears. His eyes blankly stared after you as you shut the door, leaving him in complete darkness as you sighed and leaned back against the door of the house of mirrors.

A long, defeated groan tore itself out of your throat as you shoved your face into your hands and slid down the door, the slightly sloped glass bumping its gentle hills pleasantly against your back. You rubbed your eyes moved your hands away from your face, a headache beginning to form its way in the back of your skull. 

Mood sufficiently dampened, you were officially ready to go home or just about anywhere away from the attraction you were leaning against. You were certain that you looked more than a little worse for wear, no doubt your neck was covered in an array of bruises.

Your halo dimly glowed as you moved your hands to your lap. You scrunched your nose slightly at the blotches of dry blood, no doubt you owed an explanation to Elder Kettle how you got them so dirtied up.

Though oddly enough, your hand didn’t sting despite having been torn into by a set of sharp fingernails earlier. Slightly curious, you slowly peeled off a grimy glove to see that your hand was completely fine, no sign of injury or scarring anywhere. 

Confused and a little freaked out, you quickly stood up and turned to distorted mirror of the door behind you. The bruises encompassing your neck were an ugly shade of purple and blue, but weren’t as prominent as they should have been. Your confusion grew worse as you gently ran a finger across your neck, wincing slightly when you poked a little too hard on a bruise

How were they not..? Injuries don’t normally heal that quick do they? You still had your scar from the casino incident, so what made these injuries any different?

Before you can continue that thought, you catch sight of a tall blob of pinks approaching you fast in your distorted reflection. Turning, your heart sunk as you catch sight of the Baroness of the candy castle you visited a few days ago stalking towards you; yellow eyes bright with anger.

“YOU!”

You gulped as you stood there frozen as she approached closer and closer by the second, a deep scowl set upon her face. She was definitely still mad at you.  


\---------------------------------------------------------------

The lack of light in the tiny building was no problem to the Devil. It wasn’t a big deal, though the mountain of problems he had to deal with certainly was. 

He let out a defeated sigh as he looked into one of the mirrors next to him. The glass distorting his reflection beyond recognition, making his neck comically long and his body far smaller than it actually was. 

With a hiss, he punched the glass and broke the mirror with little effort.

This was just perfect; not only had he failed in his plan of getting rid of the winged pest but his humiliation doubled since the little bird actually gave his face a wallop hard enough to knock out one of his teeth.

Perfect. Just absolutely perfect. 

Not only did he still have an angel still running around in his territory, he had to deal with one who happens to be a goddamn amnesiac who didn’t know jack shit.

Running a clawed hand through his chest fur, he scratched at himself as he rested his forehead against the cool glass.

‘Congratulations, old man. You got the leg up on me’ he couldn't help but bitterly think.

The Devil scowled as he blankly stared into the glass. Well, this certainly threw a wrench in his plans alright. Turns out even the angel was something he wasn’t able to dispose of right away.

Thoroughly annoyed, he bumped his head against the wall. 

Well what the fuck was he going to do now? The angel was- as much he hates to admit it- a tougher cookie than he anticipated and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her prance around his islands. He had to do something, as he can’t just let that little shit wander around like her awful boss ran the place.

Oh, what to do, what to do… 

He glanced back to the tooth in his hand, his cheek aching dully as he mulled over the injury.

Hot damn, the gal had one hell of an arm on her.

So she probably wasn’t going to be an easy target like he thought out her to be, and she apparently was cozy enough with the cups to be safe near them. Scratch that - she was definitely a much more difficult target than he originally thought her out to be. 

He sighed, fogging up the glass of the mirror as he mentally went through his options.

Murder is definitely off the table, extortion already was a shitty plan to begin with if he didn't have any dirt on her, and forget trying to corrupt her; that look in her eyes when she swung at him...while full of anger, was still mostly out of pure instinct to protect those she held close. That in itself was something too pure for him to completely take over. She didn't look exactly seem like the type to easily fall prey to his words, either. That scowl of hers gave it away alright.

At a loss, he let out another groan, the sound echoing throughout the narrow hallway. He ignored the tiny shriek of a small child nearby, no doubt the little squirt heard him from outside and as much as he loved terrorizing the people of Inkwell, he had bigger issues on his plate right now. Like dealing with a minion of his most hated enemy who just happened to be strong enough to probably knock him out if she tried and couldn't remember anything.

This whole day was just absolutely perfect, wasn't it, Satan? 

The Devil let out a louder groan, thumping his head slightly harder against the glass. He could hear his horns scratch harshly against the mirror, no doubt creating a web of cracks in the surface, but he ignored that, too. He couldn't care less about some old shitty mirror. Not when when he had to deal with enough bullshit already.

Okay, so his options were a bit limited. He can't exactly kill her without getting nicked up in the process, nor can he really blackmail her considering she needed to remember doing something shitty enough worthy of it; at this point he really couldn't do much against this little predicament. No way she was going to wander around freely, though. Not on his watch.

Licking his lips, he looked up at his reflection to meet bloodshot yellow eyes. Blinking, the Devil felt his frown grow worse. He couldn't remember the last time he slept or even had the chance to rest his eyes since the cup brothers fiasco, but there was no time for rest now that he had to deal with another problem added to the long list of shit he had to do.

If he couldn't do anything to her, then perhaps he needs to keep an eye on her?

The Devil blinked as he peeled away from the glass, an idea popping into his head. If he couldn't kill her right away, why not just make sure she doesn't do anything holy on his sinful islands? And if he managed to not get caught watching the little bird, why not terrorize her a little bit in the process?

The demon found himself chuckling as he smirked, the glass of the mirror he looked at cracking instantly as he found his laughter growing in volume.

Oh he can just about imagine the look of paranoia on her face as she's constantly looking over her shoulder for him or his little demons, completely unsure what to do as they unknowingly hid right under her nose.

Outside the house of mirrors, a few carnival goers jumped as they heard a deep, sinister laughter from the closed attraction. Unbeknownst to them, the Devil had hatched a plan that would hopefully heal some of his bruised pride as he summoned his trident. He stabbed the golden weapon into the empty air, tearing open a portal to his home. The sight of fire and ashes welcomed him as he stepped inside, a wide, devious grin making its way to his face as he rose a hand to his mouth and whistled hard enough for all of hell to hear him.

A large crowd of imps immediately appeared before him and the Devil felt his smile grow wider. Oh, the angel had a storm coming her way.

And she won't even know what hit her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooh boy! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter despite the long wait!
> 
> Comments/criticisms are more than welcome! I want to ensure that the fic is enjoyable for you guys!


	6. Bourbon and Sucree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we glance into the casino's happenings and the angel meets a skeleton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand I live! Sorry for the momentary delay, everyone- I was a bit busy and hadn't had the chance to write as much, as well as the fact I was a little stuck on what to do. However, I managed to concoct a nice base of what to work on!
> 
> There's not much focus on Reader or the Devil this chapter, as it's pretty much a transitional chapter, but bear with me- I'm just setting it up for further events! So please bear with me!
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

When you work in a casino, you were very well bound to see some things. Some strange, some amusing, and certainly some disturbing.

When you work as the casino’s manager for well over your lifespan should be after trading your soul to the king of Hell, you were definitely going to see these things- more so than the average person or casino worker. Especially if you were the devil’s right hand man for as long as you could remember.

King Dice can certainly attest to this statement, and if he was in a playful mood he may even share a few of his own stories as he dealt out the cards, continuing all the while with the smile he plastered on when interacting with the gamblers who were either filled with the liquid courage to bet all their winnings or felt cocky enough to have him as their card dealer.

Said smile would grow wide as he gleefully pulled the rug from under some unlucky schmuck and swindle them of every single coin they managed to scrounge up from whatever stroke of luck they had.

The look of pure agony on their face never failed to bring a smile to his face. Normally, he would’ve offered for them to have a second chance- give them a little hope, make them think they can actually struggle free from the dreadful predicament they got themselves into.

And just when the poor, poor fool looked to have a few strands of confidence back in them, King Dice would’ve ripped those strands out alongside their soul. Oh, yes; watching the exact moments of hope dying on unlucky gamblers used to be quite the pastime for King Dice.

Emphasis on the phrase ‘used to’.

Before, easy pickings were much more abundant, and the casino’s vault was just about overflowing from profits and soul contracts. And before, the old demon he had the displeasure of working for didn’t look quite as….feral before his defeat. Sure, the man had a few ‘outbursts’ (if you were to put it lightly) here and there, but for the most part it was nothing some paperwork and very, very strong liquor couldn’t fix.

But that was then. Now, the casino has more or less gone to shit, in his opinion. And if it hasn’t already, then it was likely heading down that path faster than a speeding train.

The tall die held back a tired sigh as he walked around the casino floors, scanning the small crowds surrounding the slot machines and card tables. He mentally counted out the number of customers as he passed by, inwardly frowning as he flashed a wide grin that would give Sally Stageplay a run for her money towards a few gamblers here and there.

To anyone outside the casino, everything looked just about right as rain, or at the very least, as right for a place known as the Devil’s casino; people were loudly laughing and smoking and drinking, a few shouts of agony broke through the busy air after a gambler lost a large portion of their winnings, women were flirting with their dates, the loud shrieks and howls of imps and occasionally Mr. Wheezy cutting through the laughter… It would’ve seemed normal to the untrained eye.

But to King Dice, the amount of patrons within the establishment was laughable.

He nodded and shot a smile towards a few drunken patrons who loudly shouted a greeting towards him, his face melting back into an expression of indifference as he continued his hourly patrol. It took everything within him to not curl his face into an ugly frown.

Compared to last week, the number of patrons had dropped dramatically, and it only really seemed to keep dropping ever since those cups came in and beat the ever living snot out of its staff force and owner. Before then, the casino had no trouble bringing in customers and money even despite its less than stellar reputation- King Dice supposed it was either from out of fear of badmouthing the establishment or just sheer desperation for easy riches.

Either way, the casino used to be considered a force no one wanted to go against, for it meant going against the owner himself and his little (well, huge if you’re going by quantity rather than stature) army of imps.

Though all that hard work building up that reputation just about went down the drain in a day when those troublesome cup brothers came in. They had looked like easy targets sure enough then- what with those bright eyes of their's carrying the shine of naivety in them. It was rather easy to get the red one- Cupface, Cupman? He honestly couldn’t really remember or really had the heart to care about the kid’s name- lost in the sensations, the cup immediately drawing to the idea of great riches like a moth to a candle flame.

At that moment, the two of them didn’t look like they would pose any threat to the casino, but that misjudgment definitely came back to bite him in the ass in the end.

A scoff forced itself past his lips as the die shook his head, causing a mousey gambler in a messy suit next to him jump in their seat as he walked past.

Sure enough, the moment he found his boss slouched over his throne, his dark head hung down and one of his long horns deeply cracked and the other broken in half, King Dice knew this development spelled out trouble for the casino. Big, big trouble for the casino.

The fact that the island would now know that the Devil wasn’t all powerful, it would get all three islands thinking,planning, and that would lead to a whole road of problems and headaches. Those little finks managed to prove that the demon’s influence was able to broken, and soon the web the demon has made would soon begin to become frayed if they don't tread carefully.

Of course, what's not to say some of them haven't already started breaking from free from their influence? A broken influence meant less fear from the islanders. Less fear meant less business, as over the past month or so the few outside businesses the casino traded with have begun to turn down more and more offers of importing outside goods to keep the casino stocked.

“ _Why would we want to trade with the bunch of you no good schemers now? You don’t scare us anymore now that those boys put you in your rightful place._ ” King Dice recalled a rather brave wine seller forcing out in spite of his shaky legs. He let out a tiny huff of laughter at the memory.

The portly man had received a nice new shiner over his left eye that day and a very forced grin from the taller man as the die nodded with a tense ‘ _I see, have a nice day then, my good gentleman_ ’.

Of course, the Devil was none too happy when the neatly dressed man returned with very little acceptances from their trading partners.

King Dice inwardly winced as he felt the scratch on his chest throb dully from pain. The injury had...faded after a while. About a few weeks of time had healed the claw mark well, and it served as a rather dull reminder of how far the management has fallen from before.

The low, smooth ring of a saxophone fell over the casino, the brass singing its mournful cry as blues music began to echo off the immense walls of the Devil’s palace. The timing of it all couldn’t have been more perfect and King Dice couldn’t help but let out a bitter chuckle as he walked past the stage of performing skeletons.

He rubbed his forehead with a tiny sigh as a drunken gambler stumbled into his path and fell onto the hard floor, seemingly out of it. A few of seconds passed and for a moment King Dice thought he would have to call the boss to dispose of the body before he soon heard the man’s muffled snores. The die merely groaned glanced over to the bar area, his brow furrowed in annoyance as he caught sight of the Tipsy Troop behind the counter.

As he approached the counter, the shortest and oldest member, Mr. Rum, hiccuped a simple ‘h’llo, boss’, oblivious to his manager’s sour mood. The taller man sighed as he rubbed his temples and took in a deep breath, irritated.

It was already bad enough that he had to worry about the gradually decreasing clientele, his nerves frayed enough from all the paperwork and number crunching he had to do later in the day since his shithead of a boss had been slacking recently. Did he have to worry about his employees screwing up, too?

“Is there a reason why you let a client drink to the point of passing out? Didn’t we discuss not to give the customers alcohol poisoning?” he asked the question slowly and hotly, not even bothering to try and hide the bubbling impatience.

The shot glass blank slowly, processing the well dressed man’s question with glassy, faraway eyes before hiccuping again. His manager tapped a well dressed foot against the floor, his brow scrunching further and his annoyed frown deepening.

Before King Dice had the chance to hiss out an insult, his patience running very thin, the most sober member of the group (but nevertheless still drunk), Mr. Whiskey, cut in with a hiccuped excuse.

“ He just *hic!* kept on payin’, boss,” another hiccup, “And, you know how *hic!* business is is a bit slower than usual these days ‘n *hic!* we thought we could at least milk out some *hic!* more dough, ‘n it’s not like the fella croaked-”

“‘Milking out some more dough’ would end up costin’ us if we let a bunch of dumb drunks dying or sleeping around the place,” green eyes shined brightly with barely concealed anger as he snapped his fingers. “It’s bad enough those cups got the people all hopped up, we don’t need to give ‘em anymore reasons to try anything on us.”

A pair of large plump imps appeared, large unmoving girns plastered onto their faces as they stared down at the die. He waved over to the sleeping drunk on the floor, causing them to let out a dopey giggle as they flew over to the man and carried him off to a table in front of the blues band.

After checking to see that the man was still breathing, which he fortunately was, King Dice raised a gloved hand to his face and pinched the crease between his furrowed brows, a deep sigh breaking free from his mouth as he slowly shook his head.

Already he could feel a pinch of pain was beginning to worm its way through the pips of his head. He could really use a long, long nap after this.

An awkward and tense silence fell between the four of them, as the bartenders stood quietly and unsure of what to do.. Through their drunken haze they had an inkling that they had messed up, that their manager was not in a good state, but they were at a loss of what to do.

It was normally Dice that gave them orders; the one to guide them. Yet he seemed to be affected the worst out of the four of them.

A few heavy seconds have passed before Ms. Martini cut in.

“Isn’t it your break right now, boss?” the lack of hiccups and slurs within her voice surprised her fellow drunks, as she now had their full attention.

It must’ve surprised the die as well, as his bright green eyes widened for a second before blinking and dulling slightly.

“It is, but we all know we can’t afford to lose any money right about now, the way things are going for us.”

His blunt and emotionless tone sent a tiny shiver up the martini glass’s spine but nevertheless, she kept her impassive face and through hooded eyes stared up at her boss.

Despite the ironed out neatness of his suit, the smooth velvet of the purple fabric pressed and cleaned to the point of the fabric glittering under the light, the bartender was able to see the hints of bags beginning to form beneath the light makeup on his pale face.

She glanced over to Whiskey next to her as subtle as possible, and sure enough he silently nodded as he did the same. Even the heavily sloshed Rum could tell that their manager was beginning to run on fumes.

Ms. Martini was no therapist, neither were her two associates, but she knew the die across from her was dealing with his own emotional baggage. She moved her gaze to the small crowds behind him, noting the smaller number of people from last week and the staffed card tables.

Then she glanced back to King Dice, who was beginning to frown again as they made eye contact.

Yeah, she knew the die wasn’t going to spill out his heart to them. So it looked like she had to do the thing she was best at.

Without a word, the martini glass silently took a bottle out from under the counter- where they typically hid the stronger stuff- and gestured to Rum to pull get a glass. The older man blinked, seeming to sober up slightly as he dumbly nodded and passed a glass to her.

Without even having to ask him Whiskey took the bottle from her and pulled out the cork and poured out the bourbon in the tiny glass in her hand before she took out a small slice of lime and gently placed it on the rim.

She set the glass down on the polished bar in front of her before looking back up. As she noticed the die’s eyes narrow slightly, she figured she had to be blunt as possible with the man.

“You look like shit. You need it more than we do.” she simply said, ignoring the shocked coughs of her male coworkers as they turned to their manager. The die blinked before narrowing his eyes further, a frown tugging on his lips.

Outwardly, Ms. Martini appeared cool and collected. Inwardly, she was expecting the die across from her to snap any minute now- it was always a bit...difficult to read her boss. It was only until a few seconds of silence have passed she begun to feel small beads sweat form from panic.

Had she misread the situation? Did she maybe go too far acting too casually around him?

Dice was never really the fisticuffs kind of guy to begin with but she’s heard stories from Wheezy that made her skin crawl from the damage he could do.

Whiskey and Rum let out a nervous gulp as the tall, imposing man with dull green eyes slowly approach the counter, the low thumps of his footsteps somehow standing out clear as day from the noise of the casino.

When the die finally stopped in front of the bartenders, the wooden counter the one thing separating Ms. Martini from a world of hurt, the male glasses begin to shiver and chatter their teeth as the die stared down the three.

He began to reach a large, gloved hand towards them, and Ms.Martini closed her eyes as she felt Rum and Whiskey screech and cling onto her thin arms. It was only a minute until the die would shatter-

Leather squeaked, the noise slicing through the tense air harshly as someone sat down at a barstool.

Gulping and mustering whatever courage she could, Ms. Martini opened up a purple-lidded eye to a sitting King Dice, holding the shot of bourbon in his hand with tired eyes.

Then the other man did something that neither of them expected; King Dice gave them a small, tired ghost of a smile, green eyes brightening slightly as he quietly- enough for it to nearly go unnoticed hadn’t been for the fact that he was directly in front of them- gave her a ‘thank you’ before he stared down at the drink with the smile fading as quickly as it appeared.

Ms. Martini may have felt some bubbles fizzing in her head, her glassy cheeks heating up slightly. It was probably stupid of her to get so wound up over the man smiling- he’s done that plenty of times. But those were usually just for show, and most of them were usually formed at another’s expense.

For the first time since she began working in the casino (and that was a LONG time ago), she saw King Dice smile. A genuine, seemingly grateful smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly and look many years younger and he actually looked quite-

King Dice ignored the small thump and the startled squawks of Whiskey and Rum as they struggled to hold onto their coworker, who was beginning to form a puddle of alcohol as her head lolled back.

He frowned as he stared into his reflection in the amber liquid, the man staring back at him shaking gently from the force of the panicking bartenders in front of him.

The die down in the glass clicked his tongue, the bags under his eyes reflecting about a two week’s worth of restless pacing and nights of paperwork, the eyeshadow on his eyelids slightly smudged from his hands shaking from lack of sleep.

Green, tired, defeated looking eyes stared up at him, the sight so bitterly familiar to him. The longer he looked, the more he could hear the distant, disinterested voice of an older man calling his name, ordering him to come home with that cold, unfeeling voic-

Snapping out his brief reverie, King Dice snorted. He frowned at the glass before taking a swig of the drink.

No need to dwell on older times.

He blinked, allowing the amber liquor to enter his system and scrunching his nose up slightly at the burn in his throat before shaking his head. Reaching a hand to rub at this temples for a split second, he stood up from his seat, head now held somewhat higher as the drink made its way into his belly.

The panicking Rum and Whiskey hadn’t noticed their manager getting up, too busy weakly slapping Martini's cheeks as she weakly mumbled something, the liquid in her glass a slight pink color.

King Dice couldn’t help but let a tiny chuckle slip past his slips before he turned back to walk to the casino floor, eyes scanning for deep black and a pair of horns.

It’s been a while since he seen his boss since last week, the demon isolating himself further and becoming grouchier-more so since the first week he healed up from the boys roughing him up.

King Dice plastered another smile as he waltzed over to a empty cards table, getting ready to set up.

The cards in his sleeves began to shake slightly as he began to absentmindedly shuffle a deck of playing cards, musing to himself. In the middle of his shuffling, he wiped away a few beads of sweat from the side of his head, the air, while warm, no longer suffocating him as much now that he got some alcohol in his system.

His boss at first tried to deny the fact that a heavy, tense sheet of air covered the casino, a thick cigar wedged between the sharp teeth of his grin as he leaned back against his throne and a small stack of bills in the hand that wasn’t encased in a cast.

“ _Oh don’t you worry your little bald square head, Dice,_ ” the demon crooned when his right hand man had entered his office with his mouth pulled into a thin, tense line.

“ _These mortals aren’t dumb enough to try anything on us. ‘Less they want to be thrown into the flame pits for their stupidity_ ”

But oh did Dice know that his boss was beginning to crack under the pressure of it all; the demon began to grow restless a week after his battle with the two brothers, constantly prowling around the casino like a lion observing his pride. It wasn’t too long before he began to get snappier than usual, nearly lashing out on anyone who committed the tiniest offense around him.

When the manager confronted him about it, for once feeling concern about his boss, the Devil merely snorted, offended, before lighting up a cigar and taking a drag off it.

“Keep asking stupid shit like that and people are gonna think we’re goin’ soft. Cut it out.” the demon muttered before stalking off somewhere else, harshly kicking an unfortunate imp who happened to be passing by.

Of course, given how much time the die had to spend around him, he finally got the demon calm enough to no longer snap at anyone for little things. And for a while King Dice thought he managed to fix the situation long enough to come up with a plan to improve the loss they were facing.

While the casino was in no eminent danger now, as the vault deeply tucked away still held enough riches to make a king weep, he couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last.

Money was always a tricky thing, after all. It could be in your hand one minute and gone without a trace within half that minute you held it.

But of course, at the time, Dice felt like he finally was able to properly handle the situation at hand enough to maybe finally discuss the issue with the casino’s owner.

Until the angel showed up.

Oh, she looked absolutely harmless enough then. She was a short thing, her wings obscuring her face as she weakly hunched over the bar counter like a deflated balloon. Dice figured she wouldn’t be much of a problem, though seeing her kind in hell was a bit strange.

For the most part though, he simply ignored her. He was a busy man- busier then, but that’s beside the point- and being a babysitter wasn’t part of his job description, so why did he have to care?

Then in the span of probably ten minutes he looked over to see his boss with eyes set to kill, the girl in his arm trembling from fear. He chuckled as he tried to ignore the twinge of uncertainty in his gut, something telling him that he probably shouldn’t be watching this. Then he blinked, surprise causing him to pause mid card-dealing.

King Dice had almost felt..bad for her.

He wasn’t sure what invoked this, but he remember biting the inside of his cheek as she began to whimper.

Though that uncertainty faded into anger when it turned out she was with those little finks, the cause of all their problems

He felt better when he managed to knick her in the face with one of his cards, even if she did end up escaping with those brats.

After that, King Dice wanted nothing more than to just move on from the mess, but it seemed his boss had different plans in mind.

Shortly after draining half the bar, the imposing demon muttered something about working before disappearing from sight.

Dice thought he was actually being serious getting paperwork done for a while, and actually felt relaxed enough to finally to discuss casino plans with its owner before he heard the Devil mumble something about “Goddamned angels, oughtta choke the thing out” before cracking his knuckles.

He sighed as shuffled the cards and wondered where the Devil is right now, concern actually beginning to set in now.

A few drunk casino patrons wandered his way and one thumped the table with a hearty ‘Let’s go all or nothing, boys!’

The crowd of inebriated macho men cheered as they began to take their seats, placing their bets.

King Dice perked up at them, smelling an easy opportunity for some extra cash. He began to swiftly deal out the cards, the heavy haze hanging over his mind dissipating slightly as the music shifted into a livelier jazz song and the men becoming progressively dumber as they drank more from their glasses.

He clicked his tongue, the corners of his lips twitching downward before forcing itself back into that business man's grin. He can set aside his worries for now as simply relied on the hope that his boss wasn't off doing anything stupid wherever he was.

The Devil always did a habit of being a bit...rash when he was angry, after all.

\-----------------------------------------

Out of all of the colors you can name off the top of your head, you would say that pink was the least intimidating of them. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with the color itself, oh no, if anything you’d say it was quite cute- far too cute for it to be scary in any way possible.

You’d usually think of dainty looking flowers or a soft, fuzzy baby blanket whenever you hear the word or even see the color. It just looked far too disarming to be frightening, the color radiating softness and youth in every way.

However, you can’t help but feel more than a little unsettled at the sheer amount of pink in the dungeons of the baroness’s sugar castle; the soft pastels and the heavy, sweet aroma of baked desserts and sugar juxtaposing with the dim lighting and your tense nerves.

You let out a weak, pathetic moan as you rubbed your temples. First, you had to deal with the Devil himself and now you were forced into the custody of a woman who reeked of sugar (and was probably made of the stuff, too, given from her light pink skin).

She thankfully wasn’t very rough with you when she found you, only grabbing you harshly by the arm and dragging you towards her home. If you weren’t already nervous enough for you to question your sanity, you could’ve of sworn you saw the castle windows blink as she dragged to the gate.

By the time she finally shoved you into a somewhat dingy jail cell in the dungeon space, your arm was aching slightly from her tight grip.

“Sit there and wait” was all she said before you she gave you a sniff and stomped away up the thick white frosted steps to who knows where, leaving you completely alone.

You gulped, causing the bruises on your neck sting as you awkwardly stood in your cell.

Any other time, the scent of vanilla and sugar would’ve put you into a state of absolute bliss and comfort, as Elder Kettle often blended coffee with said ingredients. But the aroma only seemed to make you more jittery and put you into a pseudo-sugar rush that was coated with stress-flavored frosting.

It didn’t look too bad, you tried to tell yourself as you held your bag close and began to fumble with the cross dangling around your neck, the metal faintly warm.

Then out of the corner of your eye you see something pink (well, a lighter pink than the rest of the room) across the dungeon, a large pink mass slouched on the sugarstone floors.

It was a skeleton. A pink, sugar coated skeleton.

That shouldn’t be frightening, but somehow you feel your heart beat harder as you quickly stumbled back. Your heels caught onto something on the rough floor, causing you to fall back with a loud shriek that echoed harshly against the walls.

The impact was harsh against your back and you winced as you landed on a wing. You let out a whimper as you laid there on the hard ground, tears of frustration beginning to well up.

Today certainly isn’t your day, was it?

When you were finally feeling brave enough to go outside and have fun and not have to worry about big, scary demons or whether Cuphead would try to see how much food he can stuff in his mouth at once or whether or not Elder Kettle would get lonely by himself.

Not only have you gotten manhandled by the big, scary demon you were paranoid about seeing for the past few days, but you also got dragged around like a ragdoll by the scary candy lady who can hold a grudge for a good while.

You let out a weak moan, scrubbing away the tears of today the best you can as you kicked off your heels and slowly forced yourself into standing.

Pinpricks of pain shot up your back as the slightly crumpled wing flapped. It wasn’t sprained, thankfully, but it still stung slightly. Well, at there’s that positive you supposed.

After a good shake of your head, you looked around your cell. You were a bit surprised at the condition of it compared to the other cells. It looked more furnished in comparison to the others, as some cells lacked a few things here and there- some were simply just a cell with nothing but the stiff ground. It appears that the baroness at least had the thought to put you in a nice cell before beheading you. At least there was that bright side?

Sighing, you observed your cell. There was a small bench-like structure made of peppermint bark attached to the wall by a sturdy metal chain. A makeshift bed, you realized. You glance over to one of the walls to see a dingy-looking mirror hanging on the wall.

It was a bit cloudy and a bit dirty, but you suppose it will have to do. The floor felt cold against your bare feet as you approached it, and you blinked in surprise.

The necklace of bruises around your throat was now a very faded out purple, the skin now longer looking like you were mauled by a wild animal. Though you may as well have been, what with how harshly the Devil treated you today.

You sigh, tracing a finger with feather-light gentleness down the washed out purple marks.

In a sense, you could understand why the demon attacked you. From the basic knowledge you have about what you are, angels and demons don’t exactly mesh well together. They just simply didn’t, and they fought worse than cats and dogs. That fact was certainly proven true from what happened today in that dark, unmanned attraction.

You shiver, slightly unsettled at the thought of what may have happened had you not defended yourself- likely being mounted on the wall as some macabre trophy the Devil would brag about when gamblers were curious enough. You can just imagine that raspy, smug voice of his as he puffed up his chest in pride: 'Oh that? Got that when an angel who had the nerve to come into my territory. Oh and before you ask- yes, she screamed. a lot.'

An ugly snort forced itself out of you at the thought, the sheer absurdity of it all amusing your disheveled self.

' _Too bad he has nothing to show off now_ ' a somewhat proud grin grew as you absentmindedly fumbled with the cross around your neck. Amazingly enough, you somehow managed to break free from his near iron-grip and swung at him. Even more amazing enough you actually knocked a tooth out. It may have been a bit mean of you, but you couldn't help but giggle at the expression of pure shock on his face, his smug air instantly fading as he held his injured jaw.

This may have also may have been a bit mean, but it felt good when you knocked him down a peg. Granted, you had no idea where that strength came from, but it certainly worked.

At that thought, you frowned as you raised your unoccupied hand to brush a stray hair in place. Now that you actually put some thought on it, you have no clue where that sudden rush came from. It was if one moment, you were an angry, defeated angel clinging onto her last few breathes, and the other moment a whole other person. You've actually broke free from the _Devil'_ s grip. Who was, mind you, much taller and far more stronger than you were! And you just broken free and easily knocked a tooth as if it were nothing!

Thinking even further on it, you glance down to your arms. As much as you moved around and helped carry a few heavy books around the house, you really didn't have that much muscle on your arms. Yet it felt like you suddenly had coiled springs for limbs and they were ready to just snap into action. You poked your arm, 'hmming' in thought as you felt the soft flesh under your gloved finger.

Okay, it appears you have another investigation to add to your 'to-do' list. First your amnesia and now your sudden herculean strength; my, today was certainly exciting! You weren't sure if that was good or bad, though. Likely a mixed bag, considering you punched Satan in the face today, but also got bruised up a fair deal. But then again, you're healing rather quickly from it. You pursed your lips in thought, mentally adding your fast recovery to the investigation list.

But first, you had to address what just happened not too long ago. You do know you felt angry for the safety of your friends, and while it can do a lot of things, you couldn't but wonder. It wasn’t just motherly instinct or protectiveness, and while you do know those two are strong sources of fuel, it just wasn’t enough to make the fire explode. By explode, you mean the sudden rush of strength that surged through your core and the bright flash from your halo.

It felt strange. You couldn’t quite place it, but it almost felt like something was giving you permission to lose it on the man threatening you.

You clicked your tongue as you raised a hand to your chin, a habit of sorts you picked up from Elder Kettle. A part of you knew adrenaline was probably the main factor behind your burst of strength, but another part of you felt it was something different.

Either way, you weren’t complaining at all. If anything, the sudden rush of energy and strength probably gotten you out of the sticky situation in the first place. Whether it was just a natural response or some miracle or whatever, it saved your life.

Not in the way you’d expect, though. Still, you can’t really complain when someone like you managed to punch Satan in the face and walked away alive.

Which you don’t feel bad for, you’ve decided. It actually felt kind of.. Good, even. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you’d say you liked to avoid violence like the plague. And for the past week and a few days you lived on the islands, you did.

He, on the other hand, decided to be a bully (understatement of the year, but you won’t resort to using coarse language- you aren’t going to stoop down to his level) and if he was going to be like that, then he should expect some kind of response to it.

And given how quick you healed right after the confrontation, it seems you may even be able to hold your own against him. If you actually wanted to.

Just because you can doesn’t necessarily mean you want to. Also, you’d probably end up stressing out poor Elder Kettle and the cup brothers, who both seemed so worried about you when you decided to hole yourself up.

Sighing, you move to sit down on the stiff makeshift candy bed.

You hoped that all of them were safe. The last thing you want to do is endanger them over something so silly like starting a fight with the Devil...Ok, so maybe that last part wasn’t exactly _silly_ per say, but still- your point stands.

The thought of giving Elder Kettle a heart attack over something you’ve done fills you with shame. You really did care about the old man, and he and Cuphead and Mugman deserved so much. 

A yawn from the other side of the dungeon shocked you out of your thoughts. You jumped, quickly sitting up straighter as you tried to peek out to the row of cells across from you.

The pink skeleton from before was no longer slouched. Moving bony limbs they now looked to be up and about, stretching and scratching at their rib cage, making loud xylophone sounds as they yawned again.

“Huh, now that was a nice ol’ nap. I was feeling _bone_ tired earlier.”

Empty eye sockets were aimed at you, expectant.

You blinked.

Did..did they want you to laugh? Would- would they get offended if you didn’t?

The skeleton tilted to their head slightly. Their bottom jaw somehow scrunched a bit into a disappointed frown.

“That one don’t do it for ya? Aw, shoot! Thought that would’ve at least got a chuckle outta ya,” they then got up, a small piece of chalk clasped in a bony hand.

They rose to a wall of indecipherable lines of what you could only assume was several puns. Tsking, they crossed out the bottom most line and sat back down with their arms behind their head as they leaned casually against the wall.

You opened and closed your mouth several times like a confused fish. What is happening right now?

“Soooo, what are ya in here for? Thievery? _Public indecency on castle grounds?_ Oh don’t give me that look, those are hickeys on your neck ain’t they? Look, I ain’t judging ya, in fact I find it a little surprising since you’re an angel an’ all but- No? Okay” they thankfully stopped when they noticed how your face combusted into flames.

“Ah, well, guess it’ll just be an ol’ mystery. Either way, ol’ Bonnie sounded mad. But I wouldn’t worry too much I were you. She’ll get over it eventually, though. She’s a big ol’ marshmallow.”

You must’ve had a look of disbelief on your face, as the sugar skeleton simply huffed and shook their head- er, skull.

“What, don’t believe me? I mean sure- the girly may have tried to execute a few people in the past, but she’s real nice. Take these old bones’ words for it; _appearances can be deceivin’_ , honey. Let that marinate, will ya?”

Before you can even try and question the odd skeleton any further to even understand what they were talking about, a stoic eclair guard carrying a spear entered the room.

“Baroness von Bon Bon is expecting you in the throne room, angel” he pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked your cell, removing the candy cane bars locking you in.

He didn’t comment on your appearance, simply settling for waiting as you flush and apologize before rushing to put your shoes back on and fixing your hair slightly. Scary as she may be, she’s still royalty. You may as well look a little bit presentable.

As you stepped out of the cell, the guard turned and snorted when he saw the pink skeleton across the room- who happened to be leaning against the bars of their cell and wiggling their fingers at him in greeting.

The eclair shook his head with a boyish grin as hooked the keyring back on his suit of armor.

“Sucree, you do know you don’t have to sleep in the dungeons, right? The baroness-”

“Oh, I do. I like it down here, though. Has lot’s a leg room.”

The skeleton- Sucree- offered a wide grin before turning over to you. They narrowed their eyes for a good moment, empty sockets appraising you before smiling.

“Remember what I said, honey. Let it marinate, okay? The baroness ain’t all that scary up close,” the skeleton ignored the snort from the guard as they continued. “Besides, she ain’t gonna kill ya I don’t think. Or maybe she will. I don't know, you’re an angel, so I guess it’s a matter of moral dilemma-”

“Sucree,” the guard groaned as you felt a tick of fear climb up your spine, “please.”

The skeleton pursed (or at least they did something along the lines) their nonexistent lips as they shook their head good naturedly.

“Oh, ok. Have fun you crazy kids.”

Their tone was light and playful as they waved you off, and soon you were walking up frosted steps with the larger man next to you.

The both of you were silent as you walked, your footsteps making conversation as you observed your surroundings changed from the somewhat dingy-looking jail cells to delicately decorated hallways.

Sugar and vanilla changed to raspberries and something sweet you couldn’t place. The smell wasn’t much different from the ones in the dungeon, as they both smelled sweet. But somehow this one smelt.. _high class_.

As the two of you continued making your way down the pastel pink hallways with large clear sugar windows and velvet curtains, you observed the line of large portraits. Each portrait held a different person within each one, and the more you walked past them, the more extravagant the frames have gotten.

Most of the portraits were of men, their faces old and slightly saggy with age; nearly all of them stoic and slightly cold. The longer you walked down the hall, the more stoic each man appeared (you didn't even know that was possible). You couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable around them, their unmoving stare sending shivers up your spine. Were they perhaps related to the baroness? If so, you can certainly see where she gets her intimidating gaze from.

The guard suddenly stopped, causing you to nearly barrel into him as he turned to the side. You glance his way and you were awed at the sight of a luxurious and heavy looking double door, elegant gold trimmings lining and flattering its appearance.

Then the sharp cry of an annoyed shout flew from the space between the door and the floor, the voice familiar as you recognized it to be the baroness.

Instantly, you felt a hint of fear trickle into your limbs as you heard something shatter and the frustrated groans of the woman inside. 

The eclair though looked unaffected as he reached a hand to the heavy knocker, unphased by the sound of shattering glass as he knocked three times.

The noise stopped for a moment, then you heard something snap and the sounds of rapid footsteps and hushed whispering. Faint sweeping could be heard and you heard the baroness delicately clear her throat as if she hadn't just shattered something a few seconds ago.

“Come in.” the command was short and sweet, but it was somehow filled with enough cold to freeze a desert.

You gulped and felt your wings fold themselves over your shoulders as the guard opened up the heavy door with a nearly inaudible grunt, stepping into the room. He paused before he could go further, turning over back to you with a questioning look. Slowly, you shook your head as you fidgeted in place. You really didn't want to go in there.

Not too far off you can hear the baroness repeat herself, impatient.

“ _Come in_ ,” she repeated in the same curt, indifferent tone she used earlier, though this time with an underlying threat.

You gently clutched the cross on your neck, biting the inside of your lip as you tried to peek past the guard in anxious anticipation.

Yellow eyes met yours, and you quickly shrunk back out of view, the tall living eclair filling your sight. Her eyes felt so...cold, yet you can sense heat threatening to melt through the mask of professional stoicism.

This is your first formal meeting with the woman and already she managed to frighten you enough to want to go home even more; the cool stare chilling you to the bone as you couldn't help but think back to the demon's own burning eyes. Though to be honest you'd rather pick the Devil over the baroness. At least you were able to somewhat expect what he had up his sleeves.

You were snapped from your anxious thoughts when you heard a chair creaking and impatient tapping as you looked up to the man’s chocolate frosted face, silently begging him to not make you go inside. As if detecting your fear, he merely offered you a weak smile as gently stepped to the side, opening the door wider.

The sight of the baroness holding her head up with a thin lipped frown as her other hand drummed against the armrest of the large throne she sat upon, impatience clear as day in her eyes.

Gulping, you suck in a breath as you silently apologized to Elder Kettle for whatever trouble you caused him as you took shaky steps into the room. The doors closing loudly behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we get some insight of the casino's situation. King Dice was a tough one to write as well, but I hope I kept him in character!
> 
> Anyways, I apologize heavily for the long waits between chapters! My schedule is honestly a bit wonky and I often have to try and figure out how much I need to write and what to write for certain chapters, so the process could take a while! I had originally wanted to include more interaction between Reader and Bon Bon, but I decided to save that for next chapter since I didn't want this update to be too long. Chapter length is a bit frustrating to figure out sometimes, so I'm sorry if future chapters vary in length in future updates!


	7. Bonbons and Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you have a meeting with the terrifying Baroness von Bon Bon and meet the angel of Inkwell's stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy more exposition but I promise that things will pick up next chapter!

The large blue doors closed behind you with a harsh bang, causing you to loudly squeak and flinch mid-step. After a split-second of trying to calm down your heart, you glanced behind you behind towards the guard.

The tall eclair holding the door gave you a somewhat sheepish smile, seeming to flush beneath his darkly frosted cheeks and adjusted the small dollop of frosting on his brow. You locked eyes, and you found his eyes filled with pity and silent apologies as he turned towards his baroness and stood straighter- his rigid stance rivaling a flag pole.

With one last apologetic smile and a shrug towards you, he began to briskly walk to the pink monarch seated on her throne across the room, quietly excusing himself as he pushed past you and apologizing for getting a little bit of frosting on your wing- to which you simply shrugged it off like he did. 

You were a little annoyed, but it wasn’t anything worth getting angry over. And there certainly was no need to add any more stress by upsetting another person today.

You can hear the metal clunks of his armor bouncing off the tall, imposing walls of the room, each step seeming to echo louder than the last as you watched him walk with careful steps towards the tall woman across the room.

Said woman remained seated on her incredibly elaborate throne. Though you can’t really make out the details from your distance, you can see the deep pink of the cushioned (no doubt to keep her comfortable) seating, the fabric seeming to glitter like small jewels under the lights. Surrounding the smooth velvet was the shining, slightly gaudy silver frame of her throne, large pieces of glass-like candy entrapped by white frosting framing the very top of her throne.

Coupled with her fancy pink gown, Baroness von Bon Bon was the very picture of elegance and wealth.

When the guard finally stopped before her, shoulders tense and frosting slowly dripping from his brow, he then deeply bowed, causing his armor to shriek loudly from the stress. The white dollop of custard ontop his head was a hair strand away from coming into contact with the deep red fabric of the carpet and you could faintly see (and hear his armor clear as day) his legs shake beneath him. 

He then quickly moved a hand to his brow, wiping away any stray globs of chocolate frosting and adjusting any globs of custard that dripped down. As you stood a fair distance away from them, you couldn’t help but feel your chest tighten slightly as you watched the poor pastry. He looked so calm back in the dungeon with you and the skeleton, but when he was up hear with his superior, his body turned into tight coils of springs- just ready to bounce the minute the baroness gave him the ‘all clear’ to rise.

But you suppose you couldn’t really blame him.

He was probably just as, if not, even more, nervous around the baroness than you were. You suspect she had that effect on just about anyone though, as for the first time you stood in her castle, you noticed the air around her always seemed to be quite..tense, if you were to understate it.

It’s not that she was a bad person, per say. Well, you don’t think she is, as you briefly recall Mugman often coming home with his pockets a bit heavier and an adorably pleased smile on his face as tells Elder Kettle he had fun staying at the pink castle.

Anyone who could make Mugman happy was automatically on your nice list. That boy was just about one of the most gentle souls you met on the island, and to bring a smile to his face was considered a good deed in your eyes.

Glancing over the guard’s bowed form, you see the baroness staring down at the pastry, her expression stoic and indifferent. 

There was still that doubt, however. From the few times you’ve seen her around the islands-even before the spitting incident-she always seemed a bit...distant with everyone. Even with her own subjects. 

And the few times when she didn’t act coldly, she had a temper to rival a bull. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you hear a sharp intake of breath from the guard. He quickly shot up, as if a fire was lit under his face, his shoulders now much more tense as he took a few steps back from the royal. He sputtered for a moment, globs of chocolate frosting now rapidly dripping from his face. 

“I-I’m so sorry, my baroness,” he nervously shook as he stared at the woman before him. He held his hands and wrung them as he bowed his head to avoid looking at her.

A bit curious, you take a few steps forward. When you got closer, you were finally able to make out the reason behind the pastry’s fear: there was a large glob of custard on the carpeting. The very expensive looking carpeting.

You felt your stomach drop. Looking over to Baroness von Bon Bon, over her unmoving air of indifference as the royal sighed. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t seem angry. At least, she didn’t sound angry, judging from her slightly knitted brows. 

If anything, she looked a little bit more annoyed rather than angry. But it seemed the eclair didn’t catch on or was able to tell the difference as he began to shake harder, frosting threatening to fly all over the floor.

He still avoided looking at her and began to tremble harder when the baroness rose from her throne, her face still holding that cool air of calmness. Underneath the noisy shivering of his pink armor, you make out faint whimpers and sobs.

As she began to approach the distressed man, you felt a sharp sting of protectiveness in your chest. Before you think further you found yourself quickly speed walking towards the two, desperate to protect the pastry from whatever the other woman had in mind.

You can feel your wings puffing up slightly, ready to spring into action the closer you got to them and the louder the eclair’s whimpering grew. It wasn’t until you realized you’ve may have misjudged the situation until your mouth was open-ready to defend the poor man- and the baroness got to her guard before you.

Painted lips pulled into a small frown and her eyes softened a bit as she placed a gloved hand in a gentle manner you didn’t expect her to be capable of. That got the eclair’s whimpers to weaken to soft whines as he finally looked up to meet eyes with his baroness. 

He quickly sniffed, trying to pull himself together in front of his superior. You could only see the back of his head, the gently drooping custard dollop on his head with his slouched shoulders. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was still afraid, embarrassment and hints of shamed mixed within his soft being.

It was strange, seeing the stoic man who brought you up to the baroness, who had looked so tough, become a different person so quickly. The same could be applied to the baroness, who has let down her steely mask of impatience for this one moment.

She sighed before gently raising her other arm to pat at the other shoulder, her own shoulders slightly stiff and stance slightly awkward as she stood before him. Her eyes, cold and indifferent as they were, melted slightly before looking off to the side.

The baroness pursed her lips for a moment, briefly contemplating what to do before looking back to the distressed pastry. She briefly glances over to you, to your still opened mouth and slightly ruffled feathers before sighing and pinching the space between her brows.

“You are..forgiven. Just be careful next time before you bow.” She was curt in her reassurance, but you sense some awkward unsureness slip her into her voice as she stood before him.

The guard sniffled before nodding, his shoulders gently untensing as he began to take in deep breaths. It took a few moments for him to regain some of his composure but you can tell he was grateful that the baroness-who taken to quietly standing- wasn’t angry like he had expected.

A few minutes pass until the baroness finally sighs, her brows slightly knitted as she made a waving motion towards the door.

“You have done your job well, you may leave now.”

“But..the carpet-”

“It’s no trouble whatsoever. You may return to your post or head off to the barracks for a break” it was incredibly subtle of her, but you can detect a hint of sympathy within the latter part of her order. 

The guard must have picked up on it as well, as he gently nodded and adjusted his makeshift hair before straightening his posture again. He turned to face you, spear in hand, and face slightly shaken. His eyes widened for a moment when he noticed you directly behind him, but he shook his head gently as he gave you a weak, slightly awkward half-smile before marching over to the door.

It wasn’t until you heard the door re-open and close itself that you finally snap out of your surprised state, closing your mouth and your feathers smoothing down as you felt sheepish embarrassment fill your cheeks.

Well now. You certainly feel a little guilty for jumping a little too quickly to conclusions. Mentally you kicked yourself for going as far as to let your fear cloud your judgement and think the baroness would actually hurt her own workers.

With the guard now gone, the baroness straightened her posture, her head held high with an elegant air soon enveloping her form as she motioned you forward. 

You stood still, dumbly blinking for a moment before shaking your head and gently stepping forward, your heels thumping against the thick carpeting. She motioned you forward again, her lips twitching downward for a moment before forcing it back into the thin line of professional stoicism.

Blinking, slightly sheepish, you kept stepping forward-taking great care to avoid stepping on the guard’s blunder- until you stood directly in front of the royal.

If you haven’t felt intimidated enough already, you certainly felt it hit harder now that you got a good view of the woman. You have only seen her from a distance on a few occasions, and you had a fair idea of how tall she was.

Though, she was taller up close, but not much so; you actually stood around chest height in comparison to her. Despite not being much taller than you are, you can certainly sense the air that surrounded her.

Her head tilted back with only the amount of elegance of a princess could hold, the soft-looking curls of her fluffy hair framing her face attractively as she stared down at you. Her gown hugged her petite frame well, the bell-shaped skirt flaring out to exaggerate her hips. On top of her soft curls sat an icecream cone hat with a fluffy tail of feathers gently swaying with every breath she took. 

As you stood before her, you felt your throat grow dry from nervousness. The longer you bared her examinations, the more you felt like a tiny common city pigeon standing in front of a beautiful exotic bird. 

You can feel her bright yellow eyes trace over your form, taking in your features and you moved to adjust your halo, self consciousness quickly kicking in. The movement got her attention, causing her to stare intently at the bright ring for a few seconds before blinking rapidly for a few moments and shaking her head with a frown.

Before you could comment, she sighed and shook her head once more, the frown growing on her heart-shaped lips.

You can sense that she was likely becoming annoyed, and unsure of what to do, you did the only thing you could really think of: you stuck out a hand to the baroness, a somewhat awkward smile on your face. She blinked, surprised as you began to hastily vomit out introductions.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Baroness von Bon Bon. I-I’m the angel staying with Cuphead and Mugman? I’m sorry we had to formally meet this way given the, ah, earlier incident a few days ago, and I’m real, real sorry about that now that I brought that up and -”

You knew you were likely making a fool out of yourself, what with your face being a beet red and beads of sweat beginning to form from nervousness and how warm the room suddenly felt around you. You likely would’ve awkwardly rushed a request if you could open of the large windows nearby before she raised a hand; effectively (and thankfully) cutting you off.

The pink woman’s brows furrowed as she stared down at you, her professional mask cracking slightly as her lips twitched upwards for a split second (whether it be from amusement or anger you couldn’t tell) before going back to her frown.

“I am aware of who you are and of the...incident a few days ago. And I believe you are aware of why I brought you here?” you lowered the outstretched hand, your nervous smile growing worse.

“O-oh, I-I see then,” you began to reach to grab your cross. “I- um, figured that would be it. Given by, ah, upset you looked when you saw me.”

“You would be upset too if someone’s spit landed on you right before you had a meeting with a business partner” she said with poorly hidden annoyance and narrowed eyes.

You felt yourself shrink back at her blunt tone, your wings ruffling slightly. Oh goodness everything certainly wasn’t going good. This was just absolutely perfect, wasn’t it? Not only had your friend accidentally spit on possibly one of the most important people on the islands, but he also spat on her right when she had a meeting.

The beads of sweat that have formed earlier have begun to multiply greatly, your hands growing clammy underneath your frilly gloves. Oh dear. Things really weren’t looking good for you right now.

“Oh. I-I’m incredibly sorry about that, Baroness-”

“While your apologies are...appreciated,” she says with a firm tone, not sounding very appreciative.“They are absolutely useless to me. Now, the brothers are on the other hand..”

As she says this, she trails off for a moment. Her eyes suddenly narrow as she looks at you more closely She looks off to the side for a moment, her frown growing worse as a result of whatever thought she had.

Before you can ask her what's wrong, her head swivels back to you.

“Now that I think about it, you were the one who helped them escape before, weren’t you?”

“I, ah-” She cut you off before you can sputter out an answer.

“Yes, I remember you completely now. My guards have tried to stop you from leaving with them, but you just didn’t listen, now did you?” You can see her shoulders tensing and her voice raising slightly as black rings began to form around her eyes.

“That makes you guilty, doesn’t it?” a deep frown clouded her face as she shakes her head, displeased. The dark rings formed a makeshift mask around her eyes, giving her an almost hellish look; coupled with her frown, she looked downright frightening.

Your mouth went dry as you stood before her, your throat tightening. She looked downright furious. The cross quickly was enveloped in your hand as you stared up at her, beads of sweat freely falling down your forehead. It definitely seemed likely the answer you gave her would likely affect whether or not you get to walk away with your head still attached.

Yep, you definitely preferred the Devil at this point. 

Before you can muster enough courage to choke out a weak response to the angry monarch, a harsh slam smashed the tense air between the two of you. The sound caused the two of you to jump from surprise, the dark rings of fury disappearing instantly from around the baroness’s eyes. 

You turned behind you, relief filling your body as the distraction bought more time for you. The sight you were met with was certainly….surprising to say the least.

The heavy double doors of the throne room were wide open, revealing a tall blonde woman standing in the center with her arms outstretched and her head tilted back- as if she was waiting for an applause. Though she was far away and a bit harder to see, you can tell the woman was a beauty; she was tow-headed woman with fluffy hair tied into three bunches, resembling a dandelion. Her dress looked to be of inexpensive material, the only expensive thing on her person being the string of pearls around her neck and the gold band on her finger.

She tilted her head forward, revealing her bird-like nose and her painted lips. Her lips were spread into a wide smile, showing off pearly-white teeth and rosy colored cheeks.

“No need to fear, darlings! Your angel is here!”

The tall woman than bowed low and dramatically, her hair swaying gently as she opened her eyes. Not too long after her loud entrance, you hear rapid clapping behind her and tiny cheers from a few passing servants as the woman began to bow again, basking in the light of the windows.

You can hear the Baroness behind you snort indignantly, the fabric of her dress ruffling slightly as she shifted in place. Surprisingly enough, you hear the woman behind you clap as well, but she did so slowly and far more begrudgingly. 

It seemed that the tall woman didn’t seem to mind the forced applause of her intended audience, as she looked satisfied she at had gotten a response from the candy ruler in the first place. 

“Oh my, are you in a good mood, Bon Bon? You almost never react to my entrances,” the woman tilted her head to the side as she placed her hands on her hips, a good natured grin on her face as she teased the monarch behind you.

The baroness released a snort as she finally stopped her sarcastic clapping, likely rolling her eyes as she walked past you, bumping shoulders with you in the process. She stopped directly in front of the tall blonde, her posture still rod-straight yet her shoulders have untensed. The air around the royal changed, no longer as angry but veering off towards annoyance and...amusement? Were the two of them friends?

“I’m in the same mood as normal, Stageplay,” you hear the blonde snort and roll her eyes with an amused smile. “I only obliged this time because I know you’ll keep standing there until I do.”

The woman, Ms. Stageplay, huffs, crossing her arms while closing her eyes in a dramaticized huffy manner- seemingly insulted. A few seconds pass and for a split moment you actually think the taller woman was upset before the two women end up snorting. Though you can’t exactly see her face, you were certain the baroness was possibly smiling; you weren’t sure about that, though.

“Now that you’ve successfully intruded my castle and interrupted my meeting,” you flinched at the pink woman’s sudden sour tone, “Is there a particular reason you’ve decided to recklessly do so?”

Stageplay laughs, grinning down at her friend.

“Oh please, darling. I’m just here to remind you of our little get together in a few days. You know? One of the few times you actually leave the office and actually have fun with us gals?” her grin grew wider as Baroness von Bon Bon ‘hmmed’ in slight annoyance. “And besides, it's better that I remind you instead of Hilda. The two of you argue worse than cats and dogs!”

“Hmm. I suppose” the royal cooly responds, likely scrunching her brow at the mention of the name ‘Hilda’ judging from the sour tone growing a bit worse. She straightens her posture once again, the air around her cooling once more.

“Have you come alone? You never leave the playhouse this early, much less without that gentleman of yours-”

“Oh, my Wilbie? He’s not that far away from me, actually. In fact he tried to run after me when I oh so elegantly bid my goodbye to my adoring fans! Even when he’s much slower than I am! Oh, but I suppose love does that to a person,” she croons as she raises a hand to her cheek, blushing. “He’s also likely trying to make sure those cups are with him, too.”

At the mention of ‘cups’, you found yourself perking up. Have Cuphead and Mugman come to visit her earlier? Almost immediately after this thought, you finally felt the dots connect. They mentioned going to watch a ‘Sally’ perform- more specifically, one “Sally Stageplay”. And the blonde mentioned something about leaving a play house earlier….

No doubt about it, the Sally Stageplay, the talented actress of Inkwell, the one who Cuphead and Mugman gushed about it earlier this morning, was standing here in the flesh.

You felt your cheeks flush, suddenly feeling even more self conscious now that you were in the presence of not just royalty, but also a celebrity! Goodness, today was just a hurricane of excitement for you, wasn’t it? Had you known you were going to meet important company you would’ve cleaned up better!

Sally must’ve finally noticed that the Baroness wasn’t kidding about being in a meeting, as you were quickly snapped out of your sheepish worrying to the woman’s staring. The two of you quickly make eye contact, utter silence falling over the two of you. A few of seconds have passed before she suddenly released a high-pitched shriek of excitement.

In less than a second, she all but flew across the room and nearly toppled you over as she grabbed your face between her hands. She pinched your cheeks, causing you to let out a slightly confused whine of pain as she began to ramble.

“Oh my heavens you’re absolutely adorable! You’re so tiny! My goodness, your wings look practically lifelike! You must tell me your secret, goodness I’ve never seen such craftsmanship in a costume bef-”

“You’re hurting her, Stageplay,” you can just about hear the barely hidden smirk on the baroness’ face.

Your cheeks were left stinging from the taller woman’s attention, but were now thankfully free as she let go. Sally quickly stepped back, though not very far for long as she leaned forward, her large nose a few inches away from yours.

“Oh, heavens I’m so sorry! I tend to let my excitement overtake me sometimes! I’m Sally Stageplay, the angel of Inkwell’s theatre,” she curtsies and grins widely, the brightness of her smile practically blinding you. “It always makes me so happy to see a fan! Though I never seen such detail put into a costume before. Tell me, darling, are you perhaps a seamstress?”

She takes your hands into hers, oblivious to your bewildered expression.

“Hm, you certainly have the hands for it. You have very dainty-looking hands, darling,” she looks up back to your face, excitement growing by the minute. “How many years have you worked in the field? I can only imagine for a long time judging from the details, yet you look so young! I never seen such a beautiful costume before- not quite as accurate to the costume I wear, but it certainly must be a work in progress!”

Before she can have the chance to sink her claws into your defenseless cheeks again, you managed to shrink away slightly; all the while finally managing to choke out a breathless “C-costume?”

The blonde blinks, tilting her head slightly as her grin fades into a smile in confusion. 

“Yes, a costume, dear. I mean, your wings- they’re so lifelike, I never seen anything quite like it..” she drifts off, her hand slowly moving to touch the fine plumage of the tip of your wing. Without thinking, you gasp and quickly start, causing the targeted wing to suddenly flap out -nearly slapping the blonde in front of you- as you forced yourself from her grasp.

You would’ve thought that the actress would’ve taken the hint at that point, but somehow it flew over her head as she gasped.

“Oh my! They move, too? My, you’re just full of surprises!” the taller woman clapped as she did a small giddy jump, letting out a child-like giggle as she continued to ramble on about whatever entered her cloud of wonder.

She kept going on and on until you can feel your head swim from floundering to keep up with her quick topic jumping and your ears ready to fall off.

Mercifully, the baroness must’ve begun to become tired and impatient with her friend’s behavior as she marched over to the two of you. She moved near the space between the two of you, standing next to both of you as she sighed and suddenly yanked your halo.

Your face grew pallid, the cool air of the halo disrupted and suddenly the room felt much more warmer. The force she used was strong, but thankfully the ring simply was disrupted for a few moments before quickly floating back into place. 

Once you felt the comforting coolness return, you put a hand to your chest in relief. The last thing you needed was having your halo removed again. 

You felt your chest tighten from the leftover stress and you quickly turned to the royal, your lips pulled into a deep frown and a harsh look on your face. 

Baroness von Bon Bon simply raised a brow at you, unbothered and unimpressed at your annoyance- which bothered you greatly. The least she could’ve done was ask before violating your personal bubble and touching your halo, but that thought was quickly brushed away when you noticed the silence that has fallen over the room.

You blinked, turning over to the now silent Sally, who eyes have widened considerably and her jaw hung open. Sensing your confused and slightly concerned stare, she quickly pushed her mouth closed and shook her head, her curls bouncing wildly from the motion.

Then as if someone flipped a switch, she exploded: “OH MY HEAVENS!” she shrieked in the same excited tone from before, stars shining brightly in her eyes as she grabbed your hands once again. Her grin was even wider now, her cheeks even more flushed as she bounced on her heels - unintentionally shaking you in the process.

She turned over to the shorter woman next to her, her voice taking on a high-pitch as she kept wheezing out “she’saactuallyanangelanhonesttogodangelbonbondoyou-“

Before you can even force out a timid request for the actress to let you go, the doors suddenly slammed open once more. You feel the woman stop, jumping at the same time as you do from surprise. The familiar scolding voice of Mugman soon cut through, followed by Cuphead blowing a raspberry at his younger brother.

Sally perks up at the sound of another voice, one deep and gentle and chiding Cuphead to not slam open doors like that, and soon she was a blur of movement as she quickly let go of you. You stumbled back slightly from the force, nearly toppling back. The baroness snorted next to you, causing you to flush, but before you can say anything Sally was already across the room.

“Wilbie!” she cried with joy as jumped on top of a broad-chested man with soft brown hair and a bushy mustache. 

The man made a surprised yelp as he barely had enough time to catch the woman quite literally throwing herself at him. Despite the brief shock he had, the man’s face formed a somewhat dopey grin and his cheeks grew red as Sally promptly began peppering his face with kisses; leaving a mess of lipstick stains wherever she landed.

Cuphead, who had stood next to the man, made an exaggerated noise of disgust, but rolled his eyes goodnaturedly as he watched the pair. Mugman smiled at the sight of the couple, eyes taking on a joyful glassy look before his gaze travelled over to you. 

“Oh! Sis! You left the house today!” he said this quite surprised and likely didn’t mean to come across as blunt, but you ended up flushing when you heard the barely contained snort of the baroness and Cuphead’s hoot of laughter.

“Gee Mugs, look’s like you’re right!” Cuphead grinned, not wasting anytime scuttling over to you with Mugman in tow and hugged your legs. You found yourself smiling as you reached down to pat the rims of their cups, calmness washing over you. In a day filled with so much excitement and stress, it was nice to see the boys you’ve come to love so quickly.

“Oh hey- you even made yourself look decent today!” your lips twitched downward slightly at Cuphead’s teasing but you couldn’t help but giggle. You could never get mad with him or Mugman.

“So this was the little angel you boys mentioned earlier! I thought the two of you were just singing your praises but low and behold, an absolutely adorable angel is amongst us!” Sally makes a grand sweeping gesture in the man’s arms as she grins. “Not as precious as my Wilbie, mind you, but she comes close!”

Her companion- likely her husband judging from the matching ring on his finger- flushes deeply, struggling to control the smile on his face. With a face absolutely covered in red-stained kisses, the man shoots you a polite smile.

“My name is Wilbur Wallflower, madam. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Sally coos as she pinches her husband cheek, curling a strand of chestnut colored hair around her finger as she turns to face you. Before she could open her mouth to likely go on another tangent, the prim but firm Baroness cleared her throat- effectively (and thankfully) cutting her off.

She shot her friend an impatient look, which merely made the blonde roll her eyes but comply as she snuggled into her husband’s arms. 

The baroness stared at the couple for a moment, yellow eyes narrowed slightly before trailing over to you and the boys. You felt her gaze linger on you, cool yellow eyes meeting yours briefly before shifting away.

“As I’ve previously stated to a certain party,” she said tartly, briefly looking over to the actress not too far away. “I was in a meeting with our little cherub here.”

You noted the thinly laced mockery in her tone, but allowed her to continue. 

“Due to the parties involved in a certain... incident a few days ago I’ve decided that a punishment is due,” you felt the brothers stiffen up, as do you as the candy monarch continues. 

“My original plan was to simply behead whoever was involved,” you hear Cuphead let out a wheeze as he grabs a hold of his brother’s arm. “But! I have devised a healthy alternative to this. You see, watching our little angel here has given me an idea; Community service.”

Cuphead groaned, obviously displeased at the idea while Mugman let out a sigh of relief as he wiped away a few beads of sweat off his face. It was less obvious on Cuphead’s end, you were sure they were glad that they won’t be facing a punishment too severe. No one wanted to be beheaded, after all. Though-you wondered what she exactly meant by “community service”.

The baroness breathes out a chuckle, shaking her head before continuing.

“Well, community service if you count my little kingdom as one by itself, but you three shall work around as my little errand children. Any objections? No? Good.” 

With that the baroness turned- the feathers of her hat accidentally smacking against your nose- and walked her back to her throne. She took her seat, leaning against the back as she waved her hand towards the door. 

“The three of you may leave now. I shall send one of my servants four days from now to discuss the details with your guardian” she pauses for a moment, pursing her lips before continuing. “Also, do not think of trying to wriggle out of trouble. While two out of three of you saved the islands and our skins, which Sally and I are grateful for, that card will not work here. Do you understand?”

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowed as you and the brothers nodded vigorously when you saw those black rings from before appear once more. Satisfied, she leaned back- her back straight and black rings disappearing- and nodded.

“Good.”

Desperate to get away from the tense air that fell over the three of you, you quickly bid a swift goodbye before quickly leading the boys towards the door. Mugman leaned over your form and he bid a quiet goodbye to the actress and baroness, the blonde and her husband returning the sentiment. 

It was only until you closed the door, effectively muffling the voices in the throne room, that you finally let go of the breath you were holding, your heart beat slowly calming as you shook your head. Okay, you really wanted to go home right about now. 

“You okay, sis? You look a bit tired…” you hear Mugman’s concerned questioning as the three of you begin walking down the corridors, the sunlight pouring in from the windows now tinted with a faint orange.

It took you a few minutes to find the main stairway to front entrance and to answer your friend’s questioning, your head fuzzy and sluggish. You jump slightly when you hear Cuphead forced cough, turning over to see the concerned stare of Mugman.

“O-Oh I’m so sorry, Mugman. I- ah,” you fumbled slightly as you walked down the stairs, gently holding onto said cup’s hand as you took shaky steps. “I’m just a bit overwhelmed from everything. It’s been a while since I left the house, you know?”

The cup nodded in understanding, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

“Oh. Long day?” 

You sighed, not even sure where to begin on how well everything went today.

A passing guard waved you three off as your little trio passed the gate. The sheen of his armor nearly blinded you, but you were able to make out your distorted reflection. No marks on your neck, thankfully. You had no idea when the bruises fully healed, but you were grateful that neither the brothers or Sally had the chance to see them.

The last thing you wanted to hear was Cuphead shrieking about how you got hickeys to Elder Kettle, unaware of your little “playdate” with that cruel man.

“It certainly was. The baroness is much more frightening up close” Cuphead snorted as Mugman nodded, his mouth doing that thing where he tried to hold back his laughter.

“But enough about me, I suppose. How was the play?”

Mugman immediately perked up, a wide grin on his porcelain face as he began to quickly babble on about how it was amazing, about the story- but making sure to leave out spoilers so that you can watch it yourself when you have the time, of course.

Unbeknownst to the three of you, several pairs of glowing yellow eyes followed your form in a small tear acting as a makeshift window; their eyes filled with hatred and glee as they listened on to the Devil hissing out their task. The angel is safe for now, the depths of hells the only thing separating them from her.

The Devil watched his imps, grinning a wolf’s smile as they began to cackle and roar about how they’ll make her life miserable. Oh, the fact that he couldn’t kill you right away was depressing, but the demon certainly knew that he’s going to have a hell of a lot of fun soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support so far, I never thought that my story would get this much attention, but here we are! I hope that I'll be able to continue churn out more satisfactory chapters in the long run!
> 
> Comments/criticisms welcome in the mean time. I want to ensure that the quality is great for you guys!


	8. A Little Positivity Never Hurts Anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you question what the strange noises are around you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooohhh man. I've been gone for quite a while, haven't I? Two months at least, to be exact. 
> 
> To tell you guys the truth, I don't think I have much of an excuse. My motivation is a pain to maintain when it comes to things, so that definitely halted a lot of progress. But! I'm here now, with another chapter!
> 
> I hope the wait was worth it!

You moaned weakly when you felt a trickle of sunlight hit your closed eyes, the brightness stealing you away from a comfortable sleep. Before you could try to ignore it in favor of more sleep, the grandfather clock rung loudly downstairs.

The ringing echoed throughout the house, and through the paper thin walls you hear Cuphead groan and something falling on the floor. Quickly after you hear Mugman’s sleepy ‘are you okay?’ before he stepped out of bed to help his brother. The groggy cup merely made incoherent mumbling as he got up- likely hoisted up by the other cup- and groaned out a sleepy request to get dressed.

In spite of the sleep crusting your eyes and the nagging voice in your head to go to bed, you let out a tiny giggle before sitting up.

You won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon, the clock and Cuphead waking you up quite well. It was also your turn to help Elder Kettle prepare breakfast, and you didn’t want to be known as the person to make a sweet old man do all the work.

After rubbing your eyes, you stretch your arms over your head as you slowly opened your eyes, already mentally preparing your plans for the day.

First you should probably get dressed, then help Elder Kettle with cooking today.. Oh, there was also that meeting you have with the Baroness’s representative today about your “community service”.

You shivered as you thought back to the cold stare of the candy monarch, her threat of decapitation faintly echoing in your mind. There was in no way you’d willingly spend time with the taller woman, as she frankly scared the daylights out of you, but it appears you have no choice.

Sighing, you scan through the dimly lit recesses of your room, your halo and the faint streams of sunlight peeking through the tiny crack of your curtains. You mentally winced when you see the piles of books still strewn about your room, though they were thankfully the only things that littered the floor this time.

With a mental note to clean the mess up later, you stretch your wings out, feeling the muscles tingle pleasantly as you scootched yourself off the warm covers.

The minute you stood up, the floorboards creaking beneath, you paused.

Turning towards the window, you feel a strange pit in your stomach forming. You weren’t sure, but something felt… off. Like something (or someone) was there when it (they?) shouldn’t be. The curtains were closed, save for the strip of sunlight through the center gap.

There was no way anyone would be standing there at this hour, nor would they be able to go undetected by you. You stood, shoulders tensed, heart rate increased, as you stared at the curtains. All the reasoning in the world couldn’t quell your mind now, paranoia fully set in your head as your mind kept conjuring up a million theories to what's behind the thin barrier between you and outside.

Gulping, you slowly inched your way towards the curtains, hands clammy and shaky as you reached a hand out. You shut your eyes tight and held your breath as you yanked the fabric aside, sunlight hitting your eyelids directly.

A few seconds pass by and you slowly slip an eyelid open. In front of you, you can make out the trees and the small garden Elder Kettle had nearby. Nothing special. Curious and a tiny it nervous, you open the window wide enough to peek your upper body through.

You leaned over the window sill and were met with little disturbances. After a few minutes of calming your heart down, you were about to come back in your room when an off-chance glance beneath made you pause.

There was a mess of feathers scattered about the ground under you, the feathers an off-grey and tattered state. Strangely enough, the ground surrounding them was in a state of absolute wreckage. The grass was torn straight from the ground and scattered about, the dirt leveled and piles of it just as scattered as the grass.

Amongst the ruined patch of land you notice several footprints in the dirt- either a particular something or someone(s?) were restless. They were scattered about the patch of dirt below you, the tracks looping and circling around the bare ground, never leaving the area near your window.

And they were much larger than the squirrels you’ve seen frequenting your side of the house.

Already, you feel yourself getting nervous the longer you stood there thinking of the possibilities. You could feel the pit in your stomach grow, your instincts running wild as you tried to make sense of the situation.

It was likely just some kind of predator looking for the squirrels, you told yourself. Yes, yes, that had to be it, and you remember Elder Kettle once mentioning that he’s had pests in the past- even if it wasn’t anything big it was probably just-

Just then you catch a blur shoot out from one of the bushes nearby, barely giving you enough time to register what was happening before it darted to the trees. You finally snap out of your surprise when you see the bushes rustle, your heartbeat quickly speeding up as you gripped the window sill in anticipation.

You didn’t think he’d be here of all times, especially after a such amount of time-

Before you could think for the worse, the bushes rustle again. You can feel your wings puffing up as the bushes began to wildy shake, your limbs coiled tightly like springs and ready to burst.

A lump formed itself in your throat when the bushes stop shaking, leaving behind a deafening silence as you stood there. Before you can even think of calling out- whether to Elder Kettle or the thing outside, you weren’t sure- a small head poked out from the underbrush.

It took you a minute, but you felt your heart calm slightly when you realized it was a rabbit. It’s nose twitched as you see it move its tiny head around before it finally stopped to stare at you. The small rabbit blinked and tilted its head and you felt your heart set at ease.

You close the window and curtains with a relieved sigh, all the while trying to ignore the lingering sense of paranoia about the whole situation. The feeling stayed as you moved to the dresser and pulled out your clothes for the day.

It must’ve been your nerves making you jumpy. You tried to tell yourself that, but you knew well how you were feeling right now. Having experienced this level of jumpiness before not too long ago.

You groaned, thinking back to your encounter in the house of mirrors, unconsciously bringing your hand to your neck. Shaking your head, you sigh.

After the first time you’ve met the Devil, you’ve felt paranoid for about a week. You would always look over your shoulder, your heart beginning to race when you see something blurry move quickly from the corner of your eye.

Sometimes, during those four days, you’d felt your back burning from someone staring holes into it. Yet whenever you turned around, a hesitant greeting ready on your lips, there was nothing there. Then the skin between your wings would begin to tingle uncomfortably when you turned right back around- that uneasy feeling returning much stronger.

Now it’s perhaps your third week on Inkwell. It’s been four days since you’ve seen him again and walloped him in the cheek. About a week since you’ve gotten over your silly guilt and paranoia since meeting him.

At least, you thought you did.

Granted, you were no longer as afraid as before, but the lingering paranoia still clutched onto you tightly like a tick. You didn’t hole yourself up this time, nor did you jump at every single noise, but you just had a feeling. And each time that happened, you pushed it away in favor of playing with the cup brothers or reading with Elder Kettle.

But that didn’t help you, it never did. You feared that it was only a matter of time before it gets worse. And when that time rolls around, you probably won’t be so lucky.

You jump when Cuphead knocked on you door, torn away from your thoughts as he mumbled incoherently through the closed door before his footsteps faded as he went off to the kitchen.

“He says Elder Kettle wants you up by now, you have an easier time reaching up the taller shelves!” Mugman chirped out, unbothered by how early it was.

How lucky.

“Of course! Tell him I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes!”

Mugman, with a cheery ‘mmhm!, quickly followed after his brother. You shook your head when you heard the blue cup whistle all the while. You kind of wish you were an early bird like him, but then again- you really didn’t want to skimp out on your sleep.

Pushing aside your worries for now, you moved to raise your nightgown over your head. You managed to get it past your hips before you heard a sharp whistle ring through the window, nearly giving you a heart attack.

Quickly shoving it back down, you run back over to the window and ripped the curtains open to nothing. Just the same mess outside and the birds chirping...

You ignored how hot your face was as you closed the windows again, leaving you in a darker room. Goodness, your nerves had to be really shot to be hearing things this early in the morning.

‘I doubt that’s the case’ the small voice of doubt chimed, leaving you to desperately try to shove away the bubbling feelings of nervousness as you shoved the nightgown over you head.

It really didn’t help that you felt something staring holes into your figure as you put on your sundress for the day. It was white, doing nothing to quell your worries as you suddenly felt naked- the fabric may as well see-through in your worried mind.

“I’m not going to let this bother me, I’m not going to let this bother me,” you found yourself chanting as you quickly left your room, a sudden chill running up your spine as you made your way out.

As you closed the door behind you, you sighed. Ok, perhaps you’re just hungry. You weren’t that tired at all, so perhaps you were just feeling ill from an empty stomach. Ill enough to somehow hear things in seven in the morning.

“Dear, are you awake now? Could you maybe help me down here?” Elder Kettle called down from the kitchen, the clunks and clanks of pots and pans colliding in the back.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Elder Kettle!” you called out and made your way to the kitchen, ignoring how your shoulders were still tensed from your nerves.

As your heels clicked along the wooden floor on your way to the kitchen, you made sure to count to ten and takes deep breaths. You even made sure to check your reflection in the glass pane of the clock near the living room- looking for any signs of illness or abnormalities. Something is definitely out of place, you just know it.

Despite your rigourous checking, you found nothing. You headed into the kitchen and met with the warm smell of eggs and toast being prepared, along with a pleasant smile from Elder Kettle.

“Good Morning, sleepyhead! Glad you can join us today!” Elder Kettle’s smile was enough to send a stab of guilt through you for keeping quiet about your ordeal.

No way you are going to add more to this man’s plate.

“The boys and I already got the eggs ready earlier, do you want to help me brew a pot of coffee and get started on the pancakes?”

“Of course. Do you want me to get the coffeecake out of the pantry, too?”

“Hm, I’d say we’ll save that treat for later. Ms. Bonbon said that her friend would come over today, yes? I say we offer them some and finish whatever is left over.”

When you and the boys returned home a bit later than usual, Elder Kettle already knew something had happened. After a few minutes of awkward silence, the old kettle managed to squeeze out the infamous spit incident and the Baroness’s punishment.

It was incredibly embarrassing for the three of you, but at least he didn’t yell at you three, nor did he become angry.

….Well, Cuphead had gotten a firm talking to about spitting in a castle built out of candy in the first place, but that’s besides the point.

You nodded in agreement as you poured the batter onto the pan, humming along softly to the radio in the back as the boys took their seat at the table, the two of them making idle conversation. Elder Kettle began to whistle along to your humming, neither of you minding the lack of conversation.

As you flipped the pancake over and hummed along to the radio, you glanced outside the window above the sink.

It was a brightly lit day today, only a few clouds littering the sea of blue, hardly even putting a dent in the pretty picture it painted in front of you. You can feel the rays shine down on your bare shoulders, making you sigh contently as you let the warmth wash over you.

These kind of moments were small and likely insignificant, but you cherished them greatly. It was the little moments of sacred simplicity you enjoyed the most, just relishing the moment made you forget about everything troubling you and your thoughts- your amnesia, the Devil, the tiny little demon by the window-

You blink, pausing for a moment to register what you’re looking at, shaking your head for good measure. Sure enough, there was a tiny demon staring back at you- its wide, beady eyes boring into yours as a wide grin spread across its face as the two of you made eye contact.

A few seconds pass, your body frozen as you stared at the little being in front of you- the curves of its round face darkened as it pressed its face to the glass, grin unbroken. You can slowly feel your throat tighten up and your body instinctively move back, your wings slowly spreading out as they prepared for flight.

Whatever this thing wanted, it was nothing good. Why was it even here in the first place? Wait, did...did the Devil send it over? How many of them were there? Oh gosh, you can’t let it anywhere near the boys or Elder Kettle. This is your mess that you’ve caused-

“Dear, are you okay? The pancake is starting to burn-”

Sure enough, he was right, as you were soon greeted with the smell of burning food filling your nose. You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak as you quickly shut off the stove, lifting the pan away as it held the slightly charred pancake.

But that was the least of your concerns as your head whipped back to the window, a warning ready.

Just as quick and sudden as you’ve seen it, it was gone. Was the demon even real? Or just another part of your paranoia-riddled mind?

A hand, soft and warm, found its way to your shoulder, leading you back to the present.

“Are you okay?” the old man repeated, his brows creased and moustache downturned from the small frown on his face.

Behind you, you notice the brothers have stopped their conversation, their stares on the back of your head as they waited in baited breath as their guardian continued.

“You looked a little frazzled when you came down here, dear. Is there something on your mind?”

“I-I,” you hesitated, unsure how to answer him. Should you even mention the demon? But then again, was it even real?

“I’ve just been a little...stressed about today, sir. I’m just so nervous, since we’re going to have an important guest over.”

It was partially the truth, as you were actually quite a bit nervous to find out about the fate of you and the boys with Baroness von Bon Bon. While she seemed to show some inkling of sympathy towards her subjects, she was still, for the most part, one of the most terrifying people you’ve met.

And coming from someone’s who met the Devil himself, you weren’t exactly kidding.

Elder Kettle stared at you for a moment, his eyes betraying a hint of suspicion before it faded away before you. You can tell he had some doubts towards your answer, but he wouldn’t dare push you. Not now, not this early. He was too good for that.

You can see soft black eyes move over to the boys before they darted back to you. He nodded, understanding filling his face as he gave you a small smile.

“I’m sure everything will be okay, dear.”

How you wish you could believe him.

Elder Kettle turns back to the stove to fiddle with the pancakes once more, giving you enough time to slowly breathe in relief as he talked over his shoulder.

“Did the Baroness say when her friend will come over? I don’t want them to be-”

Before he could even finish, he was interrupted by someone knocking on the door, the sound somehow louder now that the boys stopped their conversation to listen. Elder Kettle pauses for a moment, his brows raised as turns to you. He made a small “huh” as he huffed out a tiny laugh.

“Oddly convient of them” he mumbled before he shook his head, the thumps of his cane echoing as he made his way to the door.

You couldn’t help but think of an old saying you come across in a book as you stood in the kitchen: “speak of the devil and he shall appear”.

The timing of it all felt far too off for you. Too.. convenient, as Elder Kettle put it. You could already feel the spidery fingers of paranoia slowly hover the back of your neck once gain, filling with you suspicion and anticipation as you faintly hear Elder Kettle open the front door.

Elder Kettle’s voice can be heard from all the way in the kitchen, his tone soft as he spoke: “May I help you?”

“Oh! Howdy! I’m here to represent ol’ BonBon!” the voice felt oddly familiar as you not-so-subtly tried to peak over Elder Kettle’s body. “My name’s Sucree! Hope I’m not interupting you lovely folks but I’m on a tight schedule here and the baroness doesn’t like waiting!”

You blinked as you the name hit you. Sucree? The candy skeleton from the dungeon?

“Oh it’s no trouble at all, would you like to come in?”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

Before you knew it Elder Kettle moved to the side to allow the pink skelton in- albeit now swathed in a neat, pink-and-white striped uniform that hung loosely on the shoulders and feet. On top of his head sat a small cap the same shade of pink as their uniform. A nametag crookedly clipped on their chest, the name ‘Sucree’ engraved in golden looped cursive.

In the crook of one arm, they held a thick stack of pink-tinted documents, no doubt written off with the elegant, firm hand of the baroness.

Their empty eye sockets widened upon entering the kitchen, their face somehow contorting into surprise despite the lack of skin. Though their sugar coated teeth, they whistled as they put their hands on their hips.

“Well look at you!” they hooted, a smile on their face. “You still got your head on!”

Cuphead snorted as the skeleton made their way over to pat you on the shoulder, Mugman’s curious stare fixed on their guest. You couldn’t quite blame him. Sucree seems to be a bit of an odd one. That you could tell, even from when you first met them in the dungeon.

“A-ah, yes. I guess the baroness was in a good mood that day.”

“Oh she’s just a grouch, don’t you worry,” they pinched your cheek, causing you to cringe as they grinned. “Hey! Even your hick-“

“They weren’t what you think they were,” you ignored the heat in your cheeks as you heard Cuphead chortle as Sucree looked down at you with a teasing smile.

Somewhere you swear you can hear giggling outside, not too far off from the window over the sink. You choose to ignore it for now.

“Um, would you like something to eat?” you tentatively moved a hand toward the table. “You came just in for breakfast.”

Your offer was mostly a means to change subjects, but Sucree shook their head. They took out the pink papers from their arm, smoothing out any hints of crumples.

“No, thank you though, honey. As I talked about earlier,” they paused for a moment to allow Elder Kettle to sit down next to the boys at the table. “I came here to discuss business.”

They stepped closer to the table, carefully handing over the documents over to Elder Kettle as they continued.

“Now, the baroness just wants this to be a temporary thing- about a week, to be exact. She’s already assigned what you three will be doing and has a schedule ready.”

You leaned against the countertop as you listened to them drone on. It was likely not a good idea to space out, but you couldn’t help but stare off into the window. Sucree’s word slowly drew itself into faint static as you looked off into the trees not too far away.

The leaves and foliage slowly swayed with the warm breeze, the nearby flowers dancing under the light of the sun. No doubt the birds were singing, as they always did when the sun’s rays were this bright and the air this warm. You watch a rabbit hop out from the bushes, its little nose twitching as it sat up on its hind legs to sniff the air.

It turns its head over to you, its beady black eyes seeming to stare into yours. It seemed to twitch its nose faster as it looked at you and then it turned its head around to look behind it. And then around, and around….

You stood there dumbfounded as you watched the creature’s head spin unaturally fast, its neck showing no resistance. Was...How?

Questioning your sanity, you turned back to Sucree and your hosts. Sucree was still prattling on about the details of your duties, oblivious to whats going on outisde. As for the others, they too seemed too absorbed in listening to the lanky skeleton to glance outside to see the madness.

You turned back to outside to see that the creature had stopped its freakish movements. It stood still as a statue, not even showing signs of breathing as it stared in your direction. The creature continued to stare at you, unblinking, as it tilted its head to the side.

For a normally cute sight, you felt your stomach and chest tighten. That wasn’t a rabbit outside, you realized as you stood there. It was merely wearing the flesh of one.

As soon as you came to this realization, it was as if a switch went off in the “rabbit” outside. It must have known that you already saw through its disguise, for the creature began to shake violenty. You could see the animal tremble as it opened its mouth.

Beneath the tiny pair of buck teeth, you watch in horror as a small arm- wet and slimy and sending bits of drool and heaven knows what else everywhere- force itself out its mouth. Then its twin joined in.

The two limbs wiggled furiously and wildly like a pair of unruly tentacles as the rabbit grew slack. The animal- if it was even alive- soon began to sag, its fur slowly puddling down to the dry grass.

Standing there covered in slime was a scrawny blue being: an imp.

The demon had finally stop moving its arms, now simply standing there with its head bowed. It stood there, unmoving as the world outside was suddenly reduced to only you and the looming danger. Time felt slow as the imp slowly began to raise its head, bits of slime and other body fluids dripping down its cheek as unblinking eyes met yours.

Beneath the strings of goop, those familiar bright eyes met yours. You felt your breath catch in your throat, your heart hammering away. Bits of cold sweat begin to bead up as an empty grin formed on the thing’s face.

“.....Honey, honey?”

You started and turned over to Sucree, who now held a slightly concerned look their face.

“You good? I was wondering if you had any questions but you weren’t answering..”

You hesitated for a moment and glanced outside. Just like that, the imp was gone. Leaving you with even more doubt about your mental wellbeing.

“I’m,” you felt your cheeks flame up as you hesitated. “I-I’m so sorry. Um, what were you talking about? I may have, ah, wandered off mentally.”

The skeleton shook their head, but huffed out a tiny laugh.

“It’s fine, honey. All you need to know is that you and the boy are gonna be on delivery duty.”

“Doesn’t the Baroness already have workers for that? I don’t mean to be rude, but someone like her surely has the staff needed, right?”

“Funny you should mention that,” the skeleton straightened their nametag as their tone took a less causual turn.

“BonBon’s been trying to do that for a while now. Y’see, turns out the reason why alotta her business got drummed up was because of the ol’ man downstairs” they paused to readjust their hat.

“There’s lottsa reasoning behind that, but I don’t have the right to spill the jellybeans. While the gal is still rich enough thanks to her noggin for business, she’s still fighting to build it more now. It’s tough to convince a bunch of old farts, you know.”

Behind them, you see Cuphead and Mugman frown as they stared down at their plates. Elder Kettle sat in silence, a sympathetic look in his eye as he nodded in agreement.

“I-I see. I’m so-”

“Oh hush up now. Ya didn’t know any better. Now you do.”

At a loss for words, you nodded as you watched the skeleton take out a pen. As they leaned towards Elder Kettle, you took in everything.

You really misjudged the woman, and you were sure the pressures of running a business would weigh heavily on anyones mind. You felt like a bit of a jerk now, to be honest.

“Alrighty now, I just need you sign here” Sucree gestured to a part of the pink contract in their hand to Elder Kettle. “This is just saying you give the Baroness your permisson to let the boys deliver and that you agree to all this legal mumbo jumbo.”

The kettle made sure to carefully read over the terms before signing the paper, running a hand through his moustache in thought as he handed it back over to Sucree.

“D’you mind signing over here, too, honey? You’re the only other adult here and Bon Bon thinks you’re at least mentally well enough to-”

You gave them a nod, cutting them off as you walked over to the table.

“Where do I have to sign?”

After a few moments of going over the legal terms and signing the contract, the skeleton nodded. (Somehow, the entire process felt familiar to you, your grip on the pen natural and your signature coming naturally. You didn’t know what that meant, but you guess you have something to ponder over later)

They read over everything- at least, they seemed to- and nodded with a satisified look.

“Great! I’ll be seeing you folks soon in a week! Make sure the boys come at 9 o’clock sharp! Bon bon want’s to start nice and early!”

The skeleton grabbed the contracts moved to leave, but paused. They turn to you, a makeshift pout on their bony mouth.

“And you. Make sure you get some good shut eye beforehand.”

You merely flushed and made a tiny noise of agreement as they left the kitchen.

 

It wasn’t until when the door opened and closed that you finally sat down at the table. The food on your plate was slightly cold, but you didn’t mind as the air slowly drifted back to normal. Cuphead and Mugman began to shoot out ideas on what kinds of places this could lead them to, whether or not if they’ll be allowed to eat some sweets if they were behaved well, etc.

Across from you, you catch Elder Kettle’s slightly concerned stare as he sipped at his coffee. He lowered the mug from his lips before mouthing ‘everything fine?” to not bother the brothers.

You munched on your cold pancake and nodded and tried not to let the sudden clamp in your throat bother you too much as you swallowed. ‘I’m fine. Just a little out of it’ you also ignored the way your head yelled at you to be honest with him.

The kettle sipped his coffee once again, the concerned look still there as he nodded. He knows, but he’s not going to push you.

The pancakes tasted slightly burnt and no amount of butter could hide it, but you chewed away. It’s not good to waste, after all.

After finishing up breakfast, you helped gather up the plates as Elder Kettle ushered Cuphead to the sink. He gotten away from not doing chores before, so Elder Kettle made sure to be extra quick.

You placed the plates down in the now running sink, Cuphead mumbling in protest but taking them anyway.

Feeling a bit nervous, you looked up out the window, scanning for any signs of any unwanted visitors.

Nothing but swaying grass and sunshine, it seemed. You looked further out ahead to the small grove of trees not too far off. You looked and looked as hard as you can, almost desperately finding for any signs of horns or glowing eyes- anything to make sure you weren’t hallucinating earlier.

Yet try as you might, you still found nothing- not even the limp skin suit of the imp remained from earlier.  
You questioned your sanity even further as Cuphead gently nudged you away from the sink, a look of worry in his eye as he turned to you one more time before moving to wash the dishes.

A bit confused, you move to sit down back at the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cuphead strain to see outside. His eyes were narrowed as he too looked to find the source of your worry. After a few minutes the cup soon shakes his head and shrugs- leaving you to conclude he found nothing and brushed it off.

Perhaps you looked crazy to the boy.

Maybe. Or maybe not.

You weren’t quite sure- though you certainly felt it.

At this point, you weren’t even sure what you saw was real or some disturbing hallucination born from your deeply buried worry. Even now you can feel your head shouting at you to hide away, for the Devil was out to hurt you again.

Sighing, you planted your face onto the table with a thud. You really felt like something was wrong and that you should stay inside. On the other hand, you punched the Devil before. It would be more than humilating to let some underlings get you down. Heck, he would probably like that.

You briefly think back to the house of mirrors, to that cold, cruel enjoyment on his face. Then you remember his utter disbelief and shock when you fought back.

You slowly raised your head at this, the image certainly a mood-lifter. A tiny laugh slipped out out of your mouth even.

The Devil would want to see you miserable. He’d absolutely relish in it, probably even ask you to spare some of your tears for his coffee (Though, he’d actually just take it regardless). And he’d do all of this with that sick, smug look on his face.

A fire ignited in your belly as you sat up, your train of thought speeding away.

Yeah! He would! The absolute smug jerk! He would want to see you like this!

You stood up with a rush, making Cuphead jump from the squeak of the chair. Before you knew it, a determined grin grew on your face.

There’s no way you’re letting that absolute bully get the better of you! You were better than that- stronger than that! You barely knew anything about yourself, but you sure as heck knew that a man who lost to mere children is no match for you!

And if he did happen to send imps after you, real or not, than it’s a credit to how much of a bag of hot air he is. All talk and threats, but no real bite when he’s pushed into a corner.

Puffing up your chest, you nodded to yourself- oblivious to Cuphead’s slightly concerned yet amused stare.

From this day on, you refuse to be afraid of him anymore. From now on, you will not let him get you down. You’re not going to sit by in fear and worry, never to find who you truly are because of some stupid paranoia.

Before you knew what you were doing, you found yourself out the door and into the small patch of footprints near your window.

You glanced out into the grotto of trees nearby, a hint of uncertainty bubbling up. But you shook your head before you could go further with that thought. You weren’t going to let fear bother you anymore.

Grabbing a shovel from Elder Kettle’s garden, you got to work.

It took about an hour, cleaning up the mess of feathers and smoothing the dirt out again with the shovel’s broad head. Your hands were sweaty and sore, but that did nothing to dampen your mood.

The bare patch of dirt sat there in the sea of green, sticking out like a sore thumb. The renovation was a bit shoddy on your hand, causing you to mentally cross off ‘gardener’ from your list of possible occupations from the past, but you couldn’t have been prouder.

The soil was tamped and stomped on, but you were sure the grass would grow back in no time.

You put the shovel back and stared off into the trees once again, your heart fuller and sturdier as you looked into the darker parts of the grove.

A pair of yellow eyes could be made out in the underbrush, but you merely huffed and shook your head. You weren’t afraid anymore, so no vision would hold you back anymore-

A wide grin soon joined the eyes, and before you knew it, several other make-shift faces appeared in the shadows of the trees.

You felt your heart beat harder, but you stood firm. This was probably just in your head again. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, your heart slowing down to normal.

You opened your eyes to nothing, and you felt a smile form on your face as you sighed. No way you’re going to give in that easily.

With nothing to do here, you reentered the house to the bookshelf in your room.

It was hard to make out any of the titles, your eyes still adjusting, but you soon picked out a fairly heavy title you hadn’t read. Dust was gathered around the indent of the book’s place, yet the book itself looked to be fairly recently picked up. You don't exactly remember taking it out earlier, either.

Curious, you opened up the first few blank pages. You flipped over to the third page- the author’s note- and froze. The book slipped out of your grasp as you stared down at your hands in shock, dread and horror flooding your chest.

Messily scrawled in large, jagged letters was a message: “ _We’re real, sweetheart._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, given how long it took me update, I'll be real with you guys: I have no idea when the next update will be. I've considered setting up a schedule for a chapter each month, but given how I'm soon to have a lot of spare time on my hands, updates might be a bit weird.
> 
> Anyways, as always, comments/criticisms are welcome!


	9. A Pinch of Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Devil's right-hand man is annoyed with his boss and a little kindness goes a long way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admittedly got a little carried away typing this chapter (*cough* going over 5k words! *cough). But there's a little bit more plot advancement, so I hope that excuses that a bit! Here, I'm going to implement a new "flashback" or "memory" segment that'll appear more frequently as the story progresses. Whenever you/reader will experience remembering something related to their past, the text will be in italics! 
> 
> Anyways, once again thank you so much for all the support and I hope you enjoy the update!

Inkwell Hell’s casino was almost never silent. In all hours, from day to night, the loud clamor and bustle of people chattering and the ever lively jive of the jazz music never failing to fill the room. Even with the slower business days, it never failed to have to people or music playing, so long as they have their alcohol and temptation of riches on the staffs’ side.

They were seldom any places where you wouldn’t he able to hear any noise- even without the people or music, you could still hear the faint cracks of the flames burning in the landscape behind.

Hence it made it all the more jarring to enter the tower nearby the main building- the Devil’s personal quarters.

King Dice took in a deep breath as he stood at the velvet-lined bridge, mentally steeling himself for the worst. He has walked the bridge more than plenty of times, the sight of it nothing new to him.

And yet, as he traced over the slim, flimsy looking gold rails, something about the place never failed to put him on edge. Well, he knew well what weirded him out. He just never felt comfortable with the place. The air it always had was...unnerving, to say the least.

He sighed as he began to walk across, the carpeting giving slightly under a well polished dress shoe. Just up ahead was the entrance to his boss’s tower, and beneath the crackling of flames he could faintly hear imps hissing and shrieking. Dice tried to ignore the foreboding feeling in his chest by glancing around the area, taking in the heat and burning embers lighting up the cave. It didn’t help.

The die stopped at the lit entrance and recited a harsh tongue that made his throat ache, a requirement for entering the building. The brightly lit entrance, showing off a very neatly designed interior, shimmered a shade of bright purple before the thin barrier of magic lifted, allowing him through.

King Dice sighed as he walked through the doorway, his shoes tapping against familiar black and white chess tiles. He stood in place for a moment, the barrier of magic appearing once again with a low, rumbling hum. Just as he dreaded, the place was near silent.

The Devil’s personal tower was a stark contrast to his business- while the casino held the lively atmosphere that hooked in hapless partygoers, the tower was almost always silent. The very sounds heard within the tower were often muffled or distant, and most of them were usually screams for mercy or pain. And occasionally, imps would congregate here. Whether it be for orders or for leisure, they could be heard making a variety of hellish noises.

It certainly didn’t help that the Devil always had his quarters dimly lit, with only very few wall-mounted candles to light the way.

So here he was, walking through a horror house to deliver the casino’s monthly reports. His steps seemed to thunder as he walked through deafening silence and the very faint whoops and hollers of imps in the background.

Even for someone as seasoned as him in this line of work, Dice still found the place unsettling. It just felt...invasive, being here. It was as if the tower itself didn’t want him here and made the air tense and unbearingly warm to clearly show so.

By the time King Dice made it to the end of the hall, he can feel beads of sweat begin to pool within his suit and run down the sides of his head. The casino itself was always a bit warm, but Dice was quick to adapt. But here? Well, he suppose he was nearing the main man of the place, and the Devil did always like the room hot.

It took him longer than he wanted to reach the door he was looking for, but Dice couldn’t’ve been more relieved to see the Devil’s office.

With another deep breath, he reached towards the golden knocker. The metal was painfully warm, even through the cloth of his glove, as he rapped against the door three times. The thumps resounded heavily through the halls. Faintly, Dice can hear the imps’ noise had ceased.

The tension somehow even grew worse, and Dice swears he could be able to cut it with a butter knife. The die swallowed the invisible lump in his throat as straightened his bow tie.

“Boss? You in there?”

A few seconds of uncomfortable silences pass as the die waited. He knew the boss had grown annoyed with his near constant nudging about what he plans to do with the casino- and he knew that the demon had grown to sometimes ignore or brush him off in favor of doing something else.

If it were earlier, back in the first month where the deal with the cup brothers had gone sour, where the die had to deal with most of the fallout himself, the Devil’s right hand man probably would’ve backed off. He had known well to not push the demon, lest he wanted his soul in deeper trouble.

But two months have passed since that day. And two months of slower business days and no word of action or plan was enough to spell trouble ahead for the casino if it’s manager doesn’t do anything about it.

Whether his boss wanted to or not.

King Dice sighed as he stood and waited in front of the heavy office door, inky darkness and borderline suffocating heat everywhere. He could feel his cards shuffling in their place within his sleeves as he put a hand on his hip, his shoe tapping against the floor in slight impatience. Dear god, his boss was really going to pull the silent act now of all times?

Annoyed and with flushed cheeks, the die raised his hand. He was about to bang on the door, the manager far too annoyed to truly realize just who was on the other side, until the familiar deep, rough voice answered him.

“ _ **What is it this time, Dice?**_ ” the die in question paused, annoyance quickly gone.

He could hear imps giggling on the other side of the door, the little demons taking joy at the fact that their king set his anger on someone other than them. Though they likely couldn’t see it, the die glared at the door for a few seconds before he shook his head. As much he wanted someone to punch his boss in the face, the demon was still the one who held all the power here.

“I’m just here to give you the monthly reports, boss” King Dice silently hoped none of his irritation bled through.

He heard a chair creak on the other side of the door and quiet rumbling and whispering from the imps. They quickly ceased when the Devil spoke up again.

“And?” the demon slightly growled as he clicked his claws against a solid surface.

“Still raking in enough dough to make a baker cry,” King Dice made sure to deliver the good news first, anticipating the Devil’s reaction to the next bit of info he had ready. He could hear imps chirping and cackling in joy- some he even heard pat their boss on the arm and teasing him for worrying too much.

The light mood didn’t last long before the Devil roughly shoved one of the bigger imps into the wall, a warning for getting too friendly with him. King Dice winced as he heard bones crack and a smaller imp’s muffled shriek. He could hear the larger imp moan from pain while the Devil growled for silence. Despite the pain, they listened in nervous silence as their boss sat in his chair.

“...But business has slowed down considerably in the past two months-”

He hears the Devil roughly pound a fist on his desk and another imp shriek- likely having their tail smashed in the process.

“How many times have I told you to quit worrying about that shit? Everything is under control-”

“Boss, we’ve been running the same plan for two months now, don’t you think we should-”

“DON’T INTERRUPT ME.”

Dice flinched as the Devil roared and backed away slightly from the door, his shoulders tense as he stared on in stunned silence. The imps nervously laughed as some scrambled away from their king- fear instilled in everyone around the demon.

Silence fell before the two once again, the only noise present in the air was the Devil’s angry seething. Dice stood below the door, unsure what to do as he felt his cards begin to shake in his sleeves. His tongue felt heavy and useless as he stared at the door and its heavy stature. All he could really do was stand and stare dumbly as the Devil, through gritted teeth, continued.

“Stop. Mentioning. It” The Devil seethes heavily with each word, practically hissing each one out as the hall suddenly grew much more warmer. Though his boss couldn’t see it, Dice ended up nodding with a tense frown on his face. It seemed the Devil had won this round.

Behind the door, Dice can hear a large chair creak- likely the Devil- and slightly nervous chattering of imps. Neither the demon or the die said anything for a few seconds, which left Dice to stare at the heavy door between them.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Dice was left wondering whether or not he should change the subject before the demon spoke first.

“Leave me.”

The command was short and curt, but it was enough to deliver the underlying threat behind it. Dice could only nod dumbly, sweat dripping down the side of his head as he turned heel and began to walk back.

The die could only feel a sense of anger and disappointment, beyond frustrated at the lack of action on his boss’ end. Just why couldn’t he take this seriously for once? It was always him who had to most of the grunt work, all the while the demon got to freely count his riches and do god knows what else.

He could feel his head begin to dully ache as made it halfway across the hall. The fact that the imps began to create a ruckus again didn’t help him at all. As if sensing his distress, his cards began to shake once more in his sleeves.

Already annoyed and his patience already diminished, the manager let out an angered hiss as he clutched his sleeves. Much to his chagrin, this only got the cards to squirm more frantically- likely afraid of getting squished.

“Will you little- Hey! Stop that-”

Before he could stop it, a small pack of cigars fell out of his sleeve. Even more annoyed, the die grunted as he reached down to pick up the pack, only to pause. It took him a few seconds, but he noticed that his playing cards finally stopped. He blank, slightly confused.

He glanced towards his sleeves for a moment, then back to the cigars on the floor. The cards had went back to their docile state, now seemingly content as the die picked up the pack. It didn’t take him very long to put two and two together as he gently shook his head.

Perhaps even his cards knew when he was beyond stressed.

The die glanced behind him. The halls were still as empty and as dimly lit when he first came in- the imps still making a loud enough commotion to be heard through the thick walls.

Satisfied, Dice pulled out a cigar and began to search for his lighter. He couldn’t care less if the Devil would chew him out later for smoking in his home- after all the shit he’s going through, he needs it.

As his hand finally gripped the lighter, the die suddenly noticed the lull in noise from the Devil’s office. The hall became eerily quiet again, leaving Dice to strain for any sound as he put the box of death sticks slowly as possible. He didn’t want to miss anything, after all.  
Cigar in hand, the die stood as still as possible as the Devil’s voice, in a low, nearly conspirative whisper, filled his office. It was near impossible to hear him where he stood, the door just as thick as the walls, but the die could faintly make bits and pieces.

“Don’t fuck up... Give her an even worse time-”

‘Her’? Just what was the boss planning over there?

“Want that angel to be shaking-”

At ‘angel’ Dice immediately realized just what his boss had in mind. And he didn’t like it all. In fact, he could feel the cigar in his hand break apart as one of his eyes twitched. The hall became hot, but not because of the Devil.

Oh no, far from it. He can feel the deck of cards begin to shake again, but that did nothing to pierce through the haze of pure, white-hot anger that came over him. The cigar broke further in his white-knuckled grip, the tobacco leaves falling to the floor as the die breathed in deeply.

He wanted to break down the door, yell out his anger and outrage at his boss, but he knew well that would do nothing. Which only served to anger him even more. Out of all things the Devil could do, rather than just at least TRY to do his job, he just had to go after the dame from a month ago.

Dice found himself angrily stomping towards the entrance, not caring if the Devil heard him. The flames of Hell crackled and burned as he stepped back outside, his head faintly pounding as he steps back into the casino. Laughter rang out throughout the air, yet the manager felt no joy.

The cards begin to tremble as the manager made his way to the tables, struggling to force on a business man’s grin.

If the boss wasn’t going to focus, then it looks like he’ll have to do so himself.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were admittedly more than a bit nervous as you and the cup brothers stood in the main entrance room of Baroness von Bon Bon’s home. And not just because of how intimidating the woman was. Oh no, it was a lot more than that. Something more troubling.

As the cups beside you chattered away, you found yourself scanning your surroundings- your nerves running high as you looked for signs of pointed horns or bright eyes full of malintent.

It’s been around four days since the stalking first began. Much to your despair and desperate late night hopes, it had not been a sick dream. Turns out on that day your hallucinations were actually the bizarre behaviors of the devil’s henchmen.

Over the the last few days, you found yourself glancing behind your shoulder whenever you were out, but not from fear (well, not completely anyway). The initial horror soon faded the longer you observed them, the imps unbroken stare becoming a silent challenge for you.

They never ventured too close to you (the book incident being the first and seemingly only time they did), never went near the brothers or Elder Kettle. In fact they disappeared like mist in a fan when either of them ventured onto the scene.

Quickly, you found that they were here for you, and only you.

Which was quite unnerving in certain aspects, some more than you were willing to admit. On one hand, you felt some comfort that they will only going after you, leaving Cuphead and Mugman and Elder safe from their unsettling attentions. On the other hand, the fact they were ONLY interested in you creeped you out just as much it annoyed you.

You felt more than uncomfortable whenever you tried to dress, still paranoid from the wolf whistling on the first day. So you quickly learned to dress quickly and kept the curtains closed until you were done. Meanwhile they’re staring only served to frustrate you as they remained frozen, unmoving whenever you were out.

Only occasionally they pulled their strange antics, when it was late at night and you weren’t able to sleep- tainting your once frequent habit of staring off into the moon.

In your first few weeks before things went downhill with the Devil, you would often stare out into the night, the chilled air and watchful eye of the moon filling you with comfort. Often when you stared at the moon for what seemed like hours, you often felt that despite your lack of memories and knowledge of who you were, there was some greater power watching over you. It filled you with comfort, yet it also filled you with a deep sense of sadness and yearning.

Once, you remember staring at the moon for nearly a whole hour. You can’t exactly recall what moved you to do so, but the soft glow managed to pull you in. As you stared at the round form of the moon, you found yourself drawn in even further. You were a moth to a light, your wings aching to move you towards it- as if the moon itself would take you by the hand and lead you home with gentle whispers and kisses showered upon your head.

One night in particular, you found yourself mentally scrawling out faces on the moon’s blank canvas. You weren’t exactly sure why, but you remember giving the moon a voice- one deep and gentle- and, like a child drawing their imaginary friend, wanted to give a face to that voice.

It started with imagning hair. It had to be soft, you remember insisting, it had to be soft enough to urge anyone to run their hands through them. And, as if by instinct, you remember giving the moon soft tresses as brown as the bark of a tree. Then came the face- also something that came quickly to you. You ended up giving the moon a soft, rounded nose, with eyes green as the grass around you.

It might’ve seemed silly, but you found yourself blushing at the mental portrait you painted.

And so you found yourself dreaming of the mysterious (not to mention handsome) moon man and you flying through the sea of stars towards Heaven. Near everynight you found yourself mooning over your nocturnal suitor. You felt like a schoolgirl with a silly little crush, but it never managed to lighten your spirits and motivate you even further to return to Heaven.

Until the imps howled at the moon near every night for the past four days. Not only did it keep you up, but it ended up shattering your peaceful image of night. And quickly, your moon man disappeared- leaving you oddly empty and lonely.

Perhaps that why you found yourself mentally cursing out the Devil and his goons, wishing to storm into his home and demand he put a stop to this. But you knew well that wouldn’t work. The Devil was far more stubborn than a goat- no way would he just willingly give up the chance to torture anyone. Especially you of all people.

Still, that didn’t mean you didn’t want to smack him upside the head for sending out others to harass you.

“Hey, sis. Do you think we could sneak some candy from BonBon if we tried?” Cuphead asked with a twinkle of mischief in his eye, a joking grin on his face.

You found yourself huffing out a small laugh, knowing well that Cuphead would never do such a thing (hopefully). But you were at least willing to humor the boy for now. Yet before you can open your mouth to give Cuphead an amused response, the trumpets of the candy castle’s guards sounded off.  
Mugman ended up jumping from surprise, nearly dropping the small book you lent him from your bag as he looked off to the guards.

The pink and white striped guards quickly finished as they started and the taller one announced with a booming, resounding voice “Hear ye! Hear ye! The Baroness von Bon Bon is about to make her appearance!”

There was hardly anyone other than you, the boys, the guards, and a small jellybean tour guide in the room, so you didn’t see the point of them nearly deafening everyone here. It especially was worse for you since you probably got the least amount of sleep out of your group. The imps loved to howl loud enough to keep you until the early hours of the morning.

One of the guards, the shorter one of the two, moved to raise the trumpet to his mouth, ready to make the brass in his hand shriek again. Before he had the chance to, the dainty, pink-gloved hand of the Baroness effectively stopped him.

She raised her hand to gently push the instrument down, a somewhat impatient frown on her lips as she slowly shook her head. The guard seemed to grow embarrassed as his armor moved with a heavy clunk, his shoulders tense as he made a sheepish laugh. The brunette merely rolled her eyes in response, but didn’t say anything as she let the blunder slide.

It was subtle of her, but judging from the slight hints of sleep still ingrained in her eyes and her more... calm nature, she was just as tired as you are. Yellow eyes met yours and with as much elegance and regality she can conjure up, the Baroness smoothly lifted her dress slightly as she walked over to your group.

As she got closer, you begin to make out other tiny details. Her hair wasn’t as primped as usual, with a few strands of hair sticking out from her short hair; her bright yellow eyes didn’t seem to hold as much spark in them as usual; her lipstick was slightly smudged, but that was only subtle enough if you paid close attention. Even the feathers of her waffle cone seemed to sag slightly.

All in all, it seemed that Baroness von Bon Bon was not a morning person.

Right behind her, the sound of loud footsteps slapping harshly on the ground and bones rattling echoed into the large entrance room. Before you knew it, Sucree entered the room, their uniform somehow unharmed in their hurry. In their hands were three small slips of pink-tinted paper.

The Baroness glanced behind her a moment, her shoulders now untensed as the candy skeleton quickly made their way to her side. She turned back to you and the brothers, her mouth pinched into a small, stoic line of professionalism.

“Good morning. It pleases me to see you three have arrived on time” she glanced over to the boys for a moment, than to you.

She remained silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. A few seconds pass before Sucree (somehow) cleared their throat and held out the slips of paper to the woman next to them.

The monarch blinked for a moment, narrowing her eyes for a moment before she shook her head, her eyes now a bit more aware as she took them from her servant. She carefully rubbed her eyes to wipe off the remaining sleep without smudging her makeup, all the while reading over the list of orders.

Quickly, she looked back up to you.

“You three are aware the nature of your tasks, yes?”

“We are, ma’am” you replied as you adjusted the bag on your shoulder. You had it brought it along in the hopes that it might help you, but all it really held was mostly a few books and some bandages in case Cuphead or Mugman hurt themselves.

“Very well. You are to deliver the goods to their buyer by,” she paused for a moment, which allowed Sucree to pull out a pocket watch for her to see. “..three o’clock. Then you three shall meet back here”

With that she passed the lists to Sucree, who moved to pass the lists over to you three, and curtly clapped her hands. Your confusion soon turned to astonishment as three servants quickly entered the room. In each of their hands sat a pastel pink bag that stood about a foot high- likely from the sheer amount of boxes within each one. Each servant gingerly placed the bags in front of each of you.

 

Your astonishment must’ve shown, as the Baroness merely chuckled.

“Oh believe me, this is quite small compared to what my delivery men handle. Consider this a small mercy on my end.”

Another servant came in to quickly hand her a cup of steaming coffee, coupled with a small plate so that she wouldn’t burn her hand. She perked up after a sip and looked back to you with more awake eyes.

“When you are done, you are to report back to me with the money. Any tips you receive, you are allowed to keep.”

Cuphead and Mugman quickly looked to each other, a glimmer of excitement in their eyes as they already began to think of what they could spend their money on. The Baroness’s face softened as she rolled her eyes goodnaturedly at the children before she waved her servants away and straightened her posture.

She glanced back to you one last time and nodded, her professional air back as she turned and walked back up the steps. Sucree shoots you a grin and a shrug before they followed after her.

You and the boys looked at each other uncertainly before Cuphead simply shrugged and picked up his bag. The three of you made your way out with the slightly clunky bags. It was then you sensed a scheme brewing, the air suddenly different.. Almost instinctively, you looked over to Cuphead.

The cup had a thoughtful look before you can sense the lightbulb over his head going off. He glanced over to Mugman (who’s face looked to be slightly disheartened) for a second, a calculating look on his face. Then a wide grin broke out.

“Last one here’s a leaky cup!”

Before Mugman could react, the red cup quickly darted off, shouting back how he bets he can finish all his deliveries before Mugman could. The younger cup, no stranger to competition and his brother’s bets, huffed before he grabbed his bag. His discouraged air vanished as he began to chase after his brother, a laugh freeing itself from him.

You can hear Mugman shout something at his brother, but you simply shook your head with a small smile. Oh, those two. When Mugman’s form grew smaller in the distance, you found yourself scanning the area.

It was around ten in the morning now, so there was hardly anybody around in the fairgrounds of the second isle. The only people around here were mostly carnival workers getting ready for the work day, a few delivery men passing by to their destinations, and Cuphead and Mugman running around to deliver orders.

And of course, a few imps you can find hiding in the shadows of carnival tents. You can see them watching you, some of them breaking their gaze to watch the brothers run around. They looked tempted to jump out, but whenever you think they were about to, they turned their attention back to you. You glared at one of them, but the demon merely grinned as you shook your head. They were only after you, you gently reminded yourself. Cuphead and Mugman are safe.

You pulled out the small list Sucree handed you and blanched slightly at the number of names. How Sucree managed to fit twenty names on a paper the size of your hand, you had no idea, but you read the names off anyway. You turned the paper to its back, revealing the addresses of each customer.

Oddly enough, it seemed most of your clients were off on the other isles, far away from Cuphead and Mugman. You looked behind you to see an imp trip an unsuspecting carnival worker, the demon quietly snickering as the poor man looked around.

You really didn’t want to be away from the boys with them around, but you knew there wasn’t much of a choice. It’s best to leave before the demons terrorize anymore people.

With a hesitant lick of your lips, you mentally decided that would likely be for the best.

The imps began to follow nearby as you traveled over to the third isle, clawed footsteps scraping against the paved bridge as crossed the bridge. Their stalking was painfully obvious, but you allowed it. As long they weren’t harassing the brothers or Elder Kettle, you were willing to put up with it.

You sighed as you clutched the delivery bag in your hands and stared at the list. Behind you, you can feel the stares of the imps burning into your back.

Not too far ahead, you can hear the hustle and bustle of Inkwell’s city isle. It seemed that the place was always busy, even in the morning. Businesses were already filled with customers; men and women in the streets rushed to their workplaces; ships left and entered the pier; imps hid in the thin spaces between buildings as their golden eyes bore into your form.

You can feel your wings twitch as you made eye contact with one, but you end up shaking your head. Ok, you’re going to have a more...difficult time delivering than you thought, but you weren’t going to let them stop you. You promised yourself to not let fear control you anymore. There’s no way you’re going to go back on that promise.  
Not to mention heaven knows what the Baroness will do if you don’t fulfill your duties. And to be honest, you’re much more scared of invoking the wrath of the candy monarch than some lowly imps.

So you pulled your bag strap higher and gave the imp the meanest look you can muster. The demon merely giggled. You swallowed an unnerved noise as you made your way to the first delivery. All the while you can feel the alleyway imp’s stare on your back as you walked away from the area.

Laughter was heard not too far off behind you, some of the imps whispering plans of what to do with you as you handed off the first delivery. The large, burly pirate had given you a strange look when he noticed your shaky hands, but a flash of a smile earned you a handsome tip and a wink.

You can feel your face flush as you head off, narrowly avoiding the outstretched leg of an imp trying to trip you.

It wasn’t long before you fell into a pattern. You would find a customer and drop off the goods, the imps’ stare burning into your form and their claws scraping against the sidewalk as they kept up with you. A few of them would swoop in when they had the chance. Sometimes they were successful in embarrassing you, sometimes they weren’t.

This song and dance went on for what felt like eternity, but soon enough every last treat was gone- leaving the pink sack in your hand to sag like a deflated balloon. The clouds rolled idly by as you looked around. You weren’t sure what time it was right now.

“E-excuse me, sir,” you quietly approached a well-dressed fork. “Do you know what time it is?”

The fork stared at you through his monocle and with an air of poorly hidden arrogance. Your plain state of dress seemed to strike a chord within him. But he complied as he pulled out a small watch.

“One o’clock.”

You nodded as you quickly walked away. The fork merely let out a ‘hmph’ as he went back to his business, leaving you to head away with the empty pink delivery bag in hand.

It had taken a few hours and a few feathers (courtesy of your “friends”), but the jingles of coins made it worth it. You kept the money in a pouch within your bag, your tips in a separate pocket. As you counted out the amount, you were certain you could buy a gift for Elder Kettle and some lunch for the boys.

Speaking of lunch, your stomach growled. You flushed and quickly searched for a restaurant. A small bakery came in sight, and you felt a heavenly choir fill your ears as your mouth watered at the idea of something sweet.

Wasting no time, you made your way inside and ordered a small box of cupcakes for yourself and the boys. There’s a chance the two of them will be hungry when you meet up once again, after all. As you stepped out, you made sure to be wary of your surroundings before heading out for the fairgrounds. It never hurt to be early, as Elder Kettle said.

The walk was slow and somewhat calm, the crowds of people not quite immense just yet. You passed by an alleyway and you heard the familiar hiss-like giggles of imps. You inwardly groaned in half-annoyance and half-apprehension. Some of the little demons were already successful and ripping off some of your feathers as a perverse trophy, what more could they want?

As if answering your question, you hear claws scrape against the ground, followed by excited snickers. You turn towards the mouth of the alleyway just in time to watch as an imp launched itself towards you, talons outstretched. A startled gasp forced itself from you throat as you flinched and closed your eyes. You blindly swiped.

It was a shot in the dark, something you expected to miss before you had your eyes clawed out. Yet you felt something hard and warm smack against your palm, followed by something hit the ground. Hard. Beneath your tightly shut eyes, you hear the air melt into tense silence.

With shaky breath, your heart fluttering from the nervous atmosphere, you slowly opened an eye and took a step back. You were met with an imp lying face down on the sidewalk, its crooked tail stiffly sticking up in the air like an antenna. The other tiny demons have fallen silent, their eyes wide and almost...nervous as you stood over their fallen comrade.

Before you could shout for them to go away, the imp you had assaulted made a small noise. It was muffled and hard to make out since it’s face was stuck to pavement, but you nearly did a double take. You weren’t quite sure, but did this demon...sob?

You hear one of the imps in the alleyway snort before a smack bounced off the dark walls. A quick glance back, and you became surprised at the look of concern fall over one of the taller imps. Judging from its height and its taller, slender horns, you had to guess this one was possibly the leader.

Another noise came from the imp on the ground, this time more clear and definitely a whimper. You feel horns scrape against your heel as the imp peeled itself from the ground with a wet sound. It’s head hung low as it stood, the imp making choked noises- as if holding itself back from crying-

You felt a sudden chill fall over you, pure, ice-cold reality washing over you. You made a demon cry. You actually made a demon cry. And you actually felt your chest begin to ache as you catch tiny droplets hit the sidewalk. The imps nearby seemed to be just as shocked as you, as they too stood there in dumb silence.

The imp’s shoulders begin to shake and you soon begin to make out tiny details you never noticed before: It’s tail looked unnaturally crooked, as if it had gotten it caught in a door; a few scratches littered its tiny legs, likely the result of rough horseplay or dragging itself through bushes; and though you weren’t quite sure, its rounded nose looked more crooked from before.

You stood there awkwardly as the little demon struggled to hide it’s pain, glancing off to the side to weigh your choices. There wasn’t anyone around the area you were in, surprisingly, and not too far away you can see the bridge leading you back to the fairgrounds. It wouldn’t take much for you to walk away, and these imps have been harassing you for a couple days now…

And yet… You felt some pity for the tiny demon before you. With it’s small form and shaky shoulders, the sight reminded you heavily of a child. The ache in your chest painful and familiar to you.

Suddenly, before you can even think, an imp was no longer standing before you. Soft, bouncy curls replaced the dull horns of the demon before you; soft, natural looking skin replacing the dull blue color. The city sidewalks of Inkwell’s third isle evaporated into the familiar clouds of Heaven.

_It was another normal day up above. The weather was impeccable, your clothes pristine and smooth, and your newly acquired pin shined brightly. Oh yes, everything just about was peachy-keen up in Heaven._

_...That was until you made out the soft cries of a cherub after you left the large white-bricked building that was your new work space. You looked over to see several cherubs crowded in a patch of clouds that acted as a makeshift play area. A ball laid alone off to the side. It didn’t take long for you to connect the dots, and you soon flew over to the crowd of children._

  
_A blonde cherub looked up from the center and saw you. They gave a sheepish smile as you stood before them, embarrassed that their former caretaker had to visit them in these circumstances. Nevertheless, they gently nudged the other children away to make a path for you._

_Some of the cherubs greet you weakly as you passed by them, the smaller angels looking down at their hands. You now stood before the injured cherub, their head tilted down as you heard them cry. Sighing softly, you kneeled down to their size and tilt their chin up._

_The cherub’s soft cries eased slightly as they saw you, their injured eye watery and slightly swollen. You smiled gently and softly kissed the tips of your free fingers.The cherub’s weeping finally stopped as you gently placed your fingertips on their forehead. It was an old trick you used to do all the time back when you were assigned full time as overseer of the cherubs, back when they got injured or upset._

_And it usually never failed you, as the cherub looked up at you with a small smile. You glanced over to the rest of the children, the cherubs giving you their thanks as they slowly returned to their game- leaving you and the injured cherub alone._

_Somewhere off in the distance, you hear a deep, rich voice calling your name (it didn't take long for you to realize it was your boss), yet you remain glued to the lesser angel. Your new duties can wait for a moment._

_You could feel the childish angel in your hand wiggle slightly, as if cuddling into your gloved palm. They made an oddly throaty noise almost similar to a cat-like purr. You furrowed your brow, confusion falling over your face. The cherubs never made those kinds of noises, only giggling or cheering with the occasional shout._

_Oddly enough, the cherub was also rather…warm? Unnaturally so. Almost as if your hand was enveloped tightly in a blanket. A blanket that’s oddly...rubbery? And is it just you or is the cherub looking a little blue?_

In the blink of an eye, the cherub was gone, leaving only the injured imp behind. Said imp that was cuddling into your hand with a dreamy expression on their face. They purred and butted their horns against your palm.

Cheeks flushed, you glanced over to the imps in the alleyway. They looked just as confused as you felt, their eyes wide with surprise. Wait, what happened? You remember slapping an imp to the ground, briefly spacing out into a strange..trance? Trance-like memory?

You remember doing your special trick with the cherubs, and then..  


Another purr rumbled from the imp’s throat, causing your hand to vibrate slightly. You let out a slightly confused giggle, admittedly a little unsettled at seeing an over-friendly demon for the first time. Weren't these the mortal enemies of your kind? It felt incredibly strange, but you sure that this wasn’t a bad thing. And the imp was kind of...cute, in an odd sense.

Like an overgrown kitten, even.

Before you could even question your actions, you petted the small demon. They must’ve approved, as the imp purred louder and butted their horns harder against your palm. You feel claws brush against your arms, but they made no effort to scratch as they climbed into your lap.

A warm nose wormed its way into the crook of your neck and warms breaths tickled against the sensitive flesh. You squealed when the imp licked at your neck, stumbling slightly as a crooked, spaded tail whipped wildly against the sidewalk.

“N-No! Hey! Please! I give up!” you giggled as the imp’s tail wagged even harder. The demon’s tongue was wet and ticklish against your skin, which caused your giggles to grow worse. “Ok! Ok! Y-You win! It tickles!”

The imp pulled away, a wide grin on their face and their tail easing its wiggles. Shiny yellow eyes stared up at you, expectant.

Oh goodness. Who knew a demon could be this cute?

Claws scraped against pavment once again. You turned back to the alleyway to see the taller imp- the one with slender horns- slowly approach, shoulders tensed and eyes narrowed. They stopped near you, a growl rumbling through its throat.

You stared at the purple imp for a moment before reaching your hand out. Before the demon could protest, you gently placed your hand in the valley between their horns, and rubbed small circles into the oddly smooth skin.

The demon made to snap at you, pupils dilated and fangs bared, but their mouth twitched before the same dream-like expression befell their face. Soon enough, like their companion, they purred against your hand.

More claws scraped against concrete, and soon more imps joined into the fray. Horns butted against your form until they felt sore, purrs caused your body to pratically vibrate from the force.

As you sat there against the pavement, you giggled. It seemed you made some friends.

Well, you hoped so, at least. You really wanted to sleep better at night and not have to worry about looking over your shoulder.

Under the wiggling mass of warm bodies, you squirmed. You enjoyed the friendly attention, but you still needed to get back to work. Even though you’d much prefer being buried in a cuddle pile of snuggly imps.

“E-excuse me,” you gently nudged an imp. “I don’t mind this at all, but I need to go back to Cuphead and Mugman.”

You hear some of the demons make noises and hisses of protest, but they oblidged and set you free from their clutches. It took you a while to get up, your legs slightly shaky from being squished, but you soon got up and brushed the dirt off your dress.

The box of cupcake laid off to the side, thankfully unharmed. Quickly scooping up the treats, you shot the imps one more smile before quickly running off to meet with the brothers.  
\--------------------------------------------------------

That night, you slept peacefully with dreams of stars and moon men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you all get the drill by now: Comments and Criticisms are always welcome! As the writer, your feedback is valuable to ensure the quality for you guys!


	10. A Spoonful of Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Devil is none too happy with the fact the Angel is babying his minions
> 
> Or, alternatively: The time you accidentally flirted with the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOO BOY ITS BEEN A WHILE. Exactly three months passed by and I haven't stuck to my plan of one chapter per month. And while I have no excuse, all I have to say that depression sucks, yo. 
> 
> And admittedly, I'm a bit nervous posting the new chapter here since its been a while and think it might show in my writing. But I guess it all depends on what you guys think, right? Anyways, without further ado, the update!

A few days had passed since King Dice had come over to his tower to deliver the monthly reports. Things had been rather... _tense_ , to put it lightly. Or rather, things had already been tense and strained for two months between the Devil and his right-hand man. Only now things had managed to become even worse between them after the tower incident.

The air between them was thick and heavy with tension and the duo slowly began to speak less and less to each other with each passing day. In the short span of time that passed, King Dice had begun to avoid his boss.

It was enough for rest of the staff to notice and flee the scene whenever the two of them were in the same room- all of them eager to avoid being suffocated in the thick blanket of anger. In the matter of a few days- heck, it was more in the matter of a few hours-the staff had begun to gossip amongst one another over what had caused the strain.

They would would exchange silent, questioning looks to each other from across the room as they watched their manager speak to the black demon with stiff shoulders and an equally stiff smile. The Tipsy Troop had certainly begun to see the die more often at the bar area, often sometimes worriedly glancing over to see him nursing a drink with an unreadable expression on his face.

The Devil certainly wasn’t much better, as he had begun to brood in his favorite balcony chair whenever he had the chance, staring down at workers and customers alike. But thankfully for the already stressed employees, the Devil had recently begun to scrutinize his little imps. Which certainly annoyed Dice, but the casino manager never said anything as he dealt out cards.

Though in the notably more quiet hours of the casino, where there weren’t enough patrons to keep King Dice entertained, one can practically hear the silent, unspoken curses and hisses exchanged between the Devil and his right-hand man. Though the two never outright showed it, one could easily see the barely restrained animosity just begging to be released. 

The two hadn’t exchanged much word for the past few days- the only few occasions they did were for business reasons or for the Devil to assign the die’s tasks for the day. Otherwise the two of them practically seldom spoke to each other now.

And the demon perfectly knew why. He wasn’t stupid- he was aware of the halt in his henchman’s steps when he told his imps to harass the little angel, how the die stomped down the hall right after. Oh, little ol’ Dice tried to play it off he didn’t overhear what his boss had been up to, but the Devil knew very well the die was hiding his anger.

And truthfully? The demon could care less if his right-hand man didn’t like it. While the die was the more charismatic of the two, it was the Devil who called the shots here. If his right-hand was angry, then he could just fume away all he wants- the demon wasn’t changing his mind.  
He was dead-set on chasing the angel off. Even if it meant he had to rely on his imps to do all the torturing.  

Speaking of said imps, the Devil couldn’t help but ponder over them as he leaned back in his office chair- too preoccupied to sleep and too tired to do paperwork. They’ve produced satisfactory results at first, the lot of them proving to be perfect little copys of him as they grinned in wicked delight as they recounted about the look of fear in the broad’s face. They delighted in it, the Devil saw. Which in turn delighted him.

So for the first few days of stalking and reports, the Devil allowed his henchmen to go about ruining his prey’s day and had actually managed to get a few moments of rest and work done. For a (very) short window of time, the Devil thought he had finally gotten the leg up on the little gnat, that he finally had some power in the situation.

But then he noticed the change in his imps’ behavior.

The demon felt a growl rumble deeply in his throat, annoyance beginning to bubble up. He clicked a clawed finger against the arm of his chair, some steam already beginning to puff out of his ears. Oh, how his little _finks_ were lucky that they left early to begin their tasks. Because while they happily hissed and growled about what they had in mind, little did they know their king had detected a hint of hesitation in their growls. 

While he couldn’t tell just what it was, he had a hunch that something was amiss in his henchmen, and he didn’t like it whatsoever. He had ruled over Hell for well over a hundred years and now he detects treachery? What did those little shits have in mind? A possible coup? Rebellion? He tightly clenched the brim of his desk.

What if the angel was involved?

Wood crunched and shattered within his grip, bits and pieces of desk flying off. The Devil ignored the mass of splinters in his hand, his face bright red and the steam poured out quicker. He could hear the blood thrumming in his head as he slammed his fists onto his large desk.

He took a deep breath, rubbing his temples- his jaw tense and his eyes tightly shut. It wasn’t even the afternoon and already he needed a drink.

The demon shook his head, loudly huffing as he stared down at his desk. A web of cracks slowly outstretched beneath him, the spider-like fingers reaching out ahead of him towards the door. He slowly breathes in and grits his teeth.

His gaze travels over to the entrance, to the small streams of light bleeding through the small gaps and into his pitch-black office. He normally had the room lit up when he was actually working, but it was still too early for him to be in that mindset. Oh no, the Devil was far more worried about what his little imps were up to.

It was only two days ago he had begun to notice the change in their behavior, the hushed hisses they made when they thought he couldn’t hear them. The change started out small. He would sometimes see their dream-like expressions- which he had cast aside the first few times before he had begun to catch on how frequent it became. Other times he would hear them hissing small things about the angel. And not the plans of torture or how they enjoyed making her shake like he wanted to hear. Oh no. Instead, they’d purr about how soft her touch was, or how she smelled of coffee and sugar.

All information he didn’t need or want. 

He had tried to desperately ignore it until he came across the imps crowded around a small, crudely drawn picture they made for the little gnat. It had taken seconds for them to quickly scatter off into different directions, leaving the Devil alone to swipe up the wrinkled paper.

Front and center, the smaller demons had drawn (rather poorly, he might add) the angel, surrounded by a small crowd of equally poorly drawn imps surrounding her. All of them drawn with wide smiles.

The overwhelming amount of hearts was enough to set him off, but the real cherry on top were the stink lines coming off a poorly drawn Devil and the large “I’m stupid” written next to him.

The Devil slammed his fist onto his desk once again, then paused to deeply inhale. The hand on his temple moved over to his side and yanked open a drawer. Inside were multiple packets of luxury cigars and the demon wasted no time lighting it up and puffing at it.

He lowered his hands to the desk once again, all the while ignoring the faint trembling within them. His plan was going up in flames. The angel was not in any danger, nor was she fearing for her safety when she should be.

How long was this charade going to keep up? Until more of her prissy little friends start to show up? Then what would he do?

Ashes spilled out onto his tongue, the cigar practically sliced open from how hard he bitten down on it, but the Devil ignored it. After all, he has done that for a while now, hasn’t he? The demon slowly slumped into the back of his chair, the smoke trail of the lit cigar rising up into his eyes. He can feel the cigar break apart further in his teeth, but he could care less at the moment.

So far, all of his plans have failed him. His imps have failed him, the angel humiliated him not once, twice, but three times- what was left for him to do now?

In the darkness of his quarters he can make out the old, battered mirror sitting in an undusted corner, the glass foggy from years without cleaning or usage. And yet, he can still the faint, filthy reflection of his bright eyes and cigar. Contempt and disgust began to quickly settle in, forcing him to tear his gaze away.

The Devil sat in silence in the darkness for a moment, all the while putting out the cigar in a nearby ashtray. He looks back to the closed door of his office, to the light bleeding in from under the gap. Now that most of his imps have left for their duties, his tower now felt….quiet. Too quiet.

Granted, he wasn’t in the state of mind to allow them to lounge freely right now, but without them, the silence was near deafening for the troubled demon.

He could only imagine what his imps were up to. They oh so apparently _liked_ the angel enough to not want to do her any harm. Oh but how little did those simpletons know what would happen if this kept up.

Sooner or later the rats above would notice one of their own was missing and before his own little rats could raise a pinky, the islands would be swarming with angels- all of them snooping around in HIS land to find the little brat.

  
And before he would know it, he would have to see his oh so vile father once again. He could see it now: the cold, stoic air that practically chilled the air that bastard had whenever he spoke to him, the look of pure _disappointment_ as he asked his former son where was his little worker, where he hid her away. All the while looking down on him with that frown.

The same frown he had when he-

Sharp teeth dug themselves into his lip, and soon he feels the rage overpower his previous self-doubt. The copper-like taste of blood soon mixed in with the bitter flavor of ashes.

Heat lapped at his lips as the cigar quickly bursted into flames and quickly felt his tongue begin to burn. Chunks of disintegrated cigar landed on the floor with a small thump, leaving the room with a slight scent of burnt tobacco mixed with ashes. Despite the pain surging through his mouth and the mess of crumbled ashes on the floor, the demon overlooked as he shot up to his feet, knocking over his heavy chair in the process.

Feral, slitted pupils darted across the room, all the while the faint sound of his blood thrumming through his ears flooded his head. Sickly yellow eyes reflect off dusty glass in the corner of the room.

Staring back at him was a sight that was far too familiar for comfort, a sight that he had sought well to avoid. His wild, untamed fur had stood in puffed up wafts, much like a wolf with its hackles raised. His pupils have shrunk down to the size of pin pricks, only visible to thanks to the blood red of his irises surrounding them. Smoke had begun to rise from his body and through the thin gaps of bared teeth, making it look like he was ready to breathe fire.

His reflection held an air of something wild and feral, somehow managing to look more unhinged and deranged than he was normally. He looked into the blood red eyes staring back at him, at the same cursed form that he was forced into.

Sharp claws dug into the grey flesh of his palm, his body trembling under the seething rage that  grew by the second. He can feel his form slipping, the flesh and fur undulating wildly as he felt teeth gnash into his lower lip. A fog fell over him, and before the Devil knew it, he had unleashed a loud, piercing roar that shook the room- possibly even the whole tower.

It was until he felt sharp glass dig into his hands that he felt the fog dissipate, a moment of realization washing over him. He had flown across the room towards the mirror in the corner, or rather, the current remains of said mirror.

The glass shards that were scattered along the floor and his hands glittered under the dim glow of his eyes, each individual shard reflecting his massive form. He looked down at each tiny Devil staring up at him with the same lidded-stare and bitter frown.

With a deep, sullen sigh, the Devil shook his head and balled up his fists. He could feel the flesh protest as each shard embedded themselves deeper into his hand, hints of blood slowly trying to seep through the wounds. But he took it all with a stiff upper lip, allowing the glass dig into skin like parasites burrowing into their host.

He stepped over his mess with little concern, his lips pulled into a taut frown as his hands began to burn. Warm wetness began to seep through the cuts, causing the demon to glance down. The smell of copper and black blood greeted him, but instead of showing any concern, the Devil let out a low, bitter chuckle.

Oh, this was only going to be a paper cut in comparison the pain of seeing that _asshole_ or any of his darling brothers show their face around here.

The demon clenched his hands, a sharp hiss slipping through sharp teeth as he stared ahead at the door. But all of that could be stopped. All he needs to do is just to put an end of whatever plan his imps were cooking up- most importantly, he needs to have a word with a certain little birdy.

The burning touch of his trident never before felt so welcoming...

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_You sighed as you sat upon your favorite cloud, your seat soft and comforting towards your weary bones. Watching over the cherubs today was more tasking than usual, their normally playful behavior somehow morphing to a bit more mischievous side. Your aching bottom certainly was proof of it, as one cherub somehow managed to sneak a pin on your chair before you sat down._

_It was certainly a hectic day for you, but the well-earned freedom at the end of the day was certainly worth it._  

_Especially at times like this, where you get to watch the sun slowly dip into the horizon. The bright orange glow of day soon fading into the familiar darkness of night as the moon slowly began crowning its head as it began to rise. As you eagerly watched the soft light begin to envelop the sky, you gasped in delight as the stars- as if someone had flipped a switch- suddenly flashed on._

_The sight was something you witnessed many a time now, but it never failed to lift your spirits like a kid in Christmas. It was probably a bit cheesy of you, but you couldn’t help but always find the beauty in the night sky- the darkness always managing to draw you in. Something about it always seemed so… pretty to you. Maybe it was the tiny sprinkles of stars woven into the sky? Perhaps the roundness of the moon gave it a more friendly appearance?_

_You would probably never know, but it didn’t really bother you. How could you with a view like this?_

_But before you had the chance to recline back into your cloud, you jumped as you faintly make out the giggles of cherubs as they began to quietly sing their songs into the night. You had thought you already put them all to bed; They should be asleep right now!_

_And before you could even move an inch from your cloud, you feel the cloud slightly sunk behind you as someone steps aboard. You feel your chest sink as you fear the worst- you desperately hope it's not one of the stricter higher-ups, who caught sight of the few still awake cherubs and you, their guardian (or rather, their full-time nanny), off on your break._

_“Awfully pretty this night, isn’t it?” a voice deep and rich enough to bring tingles up your spine said._

_You prayed to the head honcho of Heaven that your face wasn’t completely red. Something tells you that this wasn’t one of the crotchety old desk workers you normally talk to. You quickly took deep breaths and pinched your cheeks, which gave you the push to turn around towards the voice behind you._

_The sight you were met with just about knocked the breath from your lungs. You jumped back slightly as you almost touched noses with an incredibly attractive man. You fumbled on your knees as you came close to falling off your cloud, your face incredibly hot as you coughed out a greeting._

_You could only feel the heat get worse as you hear the man chuckle as he rose to his full height, leaving you to look up and bask in the view he gave you. Now, you weren’t exactly one to say the lord’s name in vain (lest you wanted to be yelled at for the times you did), but dear_ **_god_ ** _was this man a sight to behold._

_The first thing that caught your eye was his bronze complexion, which stood out against the sea of white that was his clothing. He wore an angelic-tailored suit, which made your own suit jacket and skirt look like rags in comparison. Even with your relatively fancy high-heels and the cross dangling around your neck, his own leather footwear (also a pure white) along with the silver cross pinned to his suit looked to outclass you in every aspect._

_Already a bit self-conscious, your gaze trailed up, which left you dumbstruck._

_Bright forest-green eyes, hair as brown as a chestnut tree and soft as a feather, and a face with soft, rounded features. Two sets of large wings protruded from the taller man’s back, which indicated the other angel was of a higher rank than you. And to wrap the whole package with a pretty little bow, his halo glowed gently in the dim night- flattering and showing off his face._

_Beads of sweat began to form as the upper-class, very attractive angel shot you a confused smile._

_“Do you speak, dear?” he asks as he extends a gloved hand (goodness, even his gloves looked to be of luxury quality) towards you._

_With a shaky hand, you awkwardly stuttered out your name. You tried your best to ignore how clammy your hands were (thank goodness for gloves!) and how red your face must’ve been. The last thing you wanted to was make an even bigger fool of yourself._

_Though that was quickly thrown out the window when the handsome stranger accidentally pulled you harder than he had intended. Your gasp was cut short as you soon came into contact with a broad, warm chest. The high-pitched, mortified squeak was muffled as you felt your soul leave your body. Oh god- goodness! Oh goodness! The first time you meet an incredibly handsome man and you go and mess it all up!_

_His broad chest shook as he began to chuckle, which left you still as a rock and your cheeks becoming a shade of red that would make a fire hydrant look pink in comparison. You wanted nothing more to burrow your face further into his chest (and it was awfully tempting- he was fairly soft there, too…), but you simply made a pathetic-sounding groan._

_A smooth-gloved finger gently tipped your chin up and forced you to look up to soft lips. They were quirked up into a smile, which drew focus to his deep cupid’s bow. You found your tongue laying limply in your mouth, suddenly heavy and dry as less than pure thoughts filled your head (You hoped that God wouldn’t be upset over how you wanted to kiss this stranger more than anything)_

_Those soft lips of his moved as the man said something that was unintelligible to you (you were, ah, far too focused on other things to listen), which leaves you to stare blankly at him. The brunette clears his throat, causing you to jump up and snap back with full attention with an awkward cough._

_He chuckles once more, which causes you look up from his mouth. Green eyes twinkled as their owner spoke._

_“You are a strange one” he quietly murmurs, most likely to himself as he gently tips your face closer. He was close enough for you to smell a faint whiff of cologne from his suit collar._

_Your breath hitches as he tilts your chin, all the while humming as his eyes slowly trace over your features; as if he wanted to commit your face into memory. Small gusts of warm air fan over your cheeks as he suddenly becomes close enough to nearly touch noses. He lets out a delicate laugh at the mouse-like squeak at the contact, amused with your skittishness._

_The brunette exhales through his nose, those green marbles of his scanning your face before closing. Eyes still closed, he moves face to the side of your ear, causing your breath to hitch as his lips were now dangerously close to your ear._

_As soon as you were about to let out a weak protest, your poor heart just about palpitating from how close he was, you feel something wet and slimy touch your cheek. Anticipation gave way  into mortification, as you quickly wrenched yourself out of the man’s grasp._

_You quickly scrubbed away the wet drool off your tongue, cheeks inflamed now from anger and outrage. Shooting back, you looked up to the man with a glare-_

_Only for pure confusion to settle in when you see his face had changed; instead of tanned skin and green eyes, you were met with pale blue and cat-like yellow._

A wet, slimy thing touched your cheek once again, this time dragging itself up your cheek and accompanied by a small whine. Reality and consciousness began to set itself in as you now felt a pressure on your chest and legs. You hear another whine before a forked tongue soon licked at your eyelids with impatience.

Grossed out, you opened up your eyes with a groan to see an imp’s face- the same pale blue that popped up into your dream.

When the little demon noticed that you were awake, a wide grin broke out on its face and you can faintly feel their tail whip against your stomach. They quickly licked at your cheek again, which caused you to groan and sit up.

The imp fell back with a grunt, but didn’t look bothered as they quickly went back to staring at you adoringly. You could feel their excited stare as you rubbed at your eyes. Then you pause for a moment.

How exactly did they get in here?

You feel the weight on your legs shift as you hear a high-pitched chirp. Soon enough, another pair of hands crawled up from your feet to join their friend. And soon enough, another slimy tongue licked you in greeting.

Grunting, you open your eyes again and finally notice the sight in front of you.

Not only were there were two happy imps in your bed, but many of them scattered about in your room.The closed curtains have done nothing to obscure the demons lounging about, as their glowing eyes quickly turned their sights on you. Before you knew it, a couple more imps swarmed over to you and sat at your bedside- looking up at you with expectant eyes.

You feel the imp that woke you up make a annoyed chirp and swat at your halo, none too eager to share the attention with the other demons. Sighing, you soon found yourself petting a bunch of imps and your body was practically vibrating from all the purring around you.

Before you knew it, you felt a smile form as you slowly scratched behind a blue imp’s ear. You giggled as that earned you another motor-like purr. They cuddled into your arms, utterly content.

It felt strange to think that these little darlings were the same demons who striked fear into you no less than a week ago. Heck, it was strange to think that any kind of demon could be this cuddly or this affectionate. You had thought all of them were scary and cold beings that reveled in mischief and chaos and pain; practically incapable of affection.

And yet here you were: absolutely swamped with what seemed to be overgrown kittens that gently butted at your body if they felt ignored or got greedy with their share of pets. Sure, they weren’t always the most well behaved little things, as their mischief wasn’t too far off from the cup brothers, but it was still a definite improvement.

It definitely beats having a bunch of demons breath down your neck. Which they probably should’ve been doing instead of this.

You paused at the thought, causing the imp in your lap to whine.

How would the Devil react to this? He probably sent them out to do his dirty work when he had failed miserably the last time, and now his backup plan had backfired fantastically. You could imagine how furious he would be.

You giggled at the mental image as you slowly got up, oblivious to the spoiled lap imp’s whine.

The demon’s pitch black complexion would become beat red, putting a fire hydrant to shame with steam pouring through his long ears. His large nose would be scrunched up, his lips curled into a frown that wasn’t too far off from an angry child.

You snort at the image, almost dropping your usual white outfit.

From the behavior you’ve seen, the Devil probably was much more immature than the boys.

That got a giggle out of you as you shook your head and you took off your sleeping clothes. Pausing, you turn over to the imps and were greeted by their backs and whistling, likely pretending they weren’t just trying to get a peek at you.

While they were definitely nicer to you, you would be lying if you said they weren’t little perverts sometimes.

As you quickly shrugged on your dress, Cuphead knocked on your door with a shout of how you’re gonna make them for deliveries.

Which got a squeak and you stumbling to rush. You forced your dress on, dug through your dresser to find your cross, and nearly tripped over an imp to find your heels.

As you desperately brushed at your hair with gloved fingers (which were also rushed on), an imp crawled over to you with a brush in its chubby hand.

Before you could say anything else, a couple more imps rushed over and jumped on your shoulders, grabbing at your wings. You let out a louder squeak, causing Cuphead to rap harder on your door. Imps began to grab your feathers and parts of your dress, causing panic to rise as Cuphead knocked away.

“Sis? Are you feeling okay in there?”

Claws sunk into the fluff of your wings, and for a split second fear consumed your form. For a moment, you wonder if the imps had betrayed you. Then you feel the bristles of a brush run through your hair. Needle-like claws run through white feathers, trying to mimic a brush as they preened away. A pair of tiny hands reach up to readjust your halo, causing you to finally snap out of your dazed state.

You stop the imp with a tense smile and while the demon looked hurt for a moment, they nodded.

In a matter of a few seconds, you were left looking at a neatly dressed reflection that looked ready for the day. The imps next to you puffed their chests up with pride as you held a strand between your fingers, a pleased and slightly flustered smile on your face.

Before you could manage a “thank you”, Cuphead bursts through the door and crumpled onto the floor, a startled Mugman right behind him. While his older brother laid face down on the floor (also managing to get milk on the floor), the blue-nosed mug looked over to you.

“Is- is everything okay?”

Cuphead peeled his face off the floor with a loud “pop!” and turned over to you with a bemused look on his face.

“What’s gotcha singing this early?”

“I wasn’t singing-oh. Squeaking. You meant squeaking.”

“Oh no, you were just belting your little heart out- No, seriously. You feeling okay, sis? You’re not that much of a scaredy-cat this early in the morning”

The red cup ignored the annoyed pout you shot at him, all the while you prayed that the imps were smart enough to hide themselves away well.

“I was just brushing my hair, Cuphead. I had a really bad knot in there.”

You quickly picked up the brush from the floor to prove your point, a small clump of your hair fortunately trapped in the bristles. Good timing, too. You needed to distract the boys from your room in case they spot your “guests”.

Cuphead scrunched his nose and Mugman managed a small “ew” as he moved over to the door, eager to get to work. The red cup shook his head as he pushed himself off the floor, a tiny look of disgust on his face.

“Okay, okay. You don’t need to show me, sis.”

You roll your eyes. It was just a bit of hair, you can’t really see what’s so gross about it.

“Well, now that you’re all dolled up,” the cup pulled up his shorts with a small grin. “It’s time to make some cash!”

And, in true eager Cuphead fashion, the boy grabbed you by the hand as he practically dragged out of the house. You nervously laughed as you fumbled to keep up, your heels nearly catching on the ground as the two of you sped over to the second isle.

You glanced behind you to see the imps from before racing to keep up, the small demons dipping and diving in the shadows and the nearby foliage. They quickly disappeared each time they dove into a bush or the shade, which made you mentally sigh in relief.

The last thing you wanted was to try and explain why a bunch of demons were much more friendly with you.

You nearly trip over a stone and that was enough for you to face forward again. Balloons and carnival music could be faintly made out in the distance, which got a cheer from the boys as they ran faster.

Unbeknownst to you, the boys, and even the imps eagerly on your trail, a certain demon king wasn’t too far behind.

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He wasn’t sure how long he followed the angel and his treacherous imps. The hours seemed to blend together as he spent most of the day perched hidden within a bush as a cat or hidden away in the shadows as a tiny spider.

The Devil had to endure sitting through his imps following the angel around like a herd of lost puppies. Hell knows he felt his stomach become queasy as he watched them look at her with adoring eyes, eager to help her in any way they can.

As for the pesky little bird, she simply skipped around with those pesky cups, a basket of goodies in their hands. And while he was horribly tempted to stain her white dress with red, The Devil sucked in his breath and bared it.

Even when the trio had broken apart to go their separate routes (it didn’t take long for him to find that the three have taken up some work with the Baroness), the demon waited.

It was far too risky to ambush her just yet, what with the light of day and the goody-two shoed public eager to help a pretty bird in need.

He clicked his tongue at the thought, amused.

The angel was easy on the eyes, as much he didn’t like to admit it. All soft features and a pretty smile coupled with a gentle voice that got most of her customers to erupt into flame red cheeks and shaky hands. Which always earned her a hefty tip, he couldn’t help but notice.

Shame. She would’ve made a good waitress hadn’t been for the fact she was the underling of his worst enemy.

She was absolutely oblivious to it all, too, often taking compliments with a grain of salt and flirtations going over her head completely. Which got a snort from him every time, nearly giving away his position each time. Watching a few pathetic men try to court someone this oblivious was an absolute hoot, he had to admit.

Thankfully his imps were far too busy growling under their breaths at any friendly customers to realize their king wasn’t too far away from them.

By the time the angel and her herd of demonic sheep were done with the day, massive throngs of people had begun to appear on the islands, all of them eager to go about their day.

He watches the angel scuttle back to the fairgrounds, her heels quickly clicking against the pavement and her brow furrowed in worry. She disappeared into the pink castle of the candy baroness for a few hours, all the while the imps waited nearby the door for their angel.

She soon reappears after a few hours, the cups back at her side with their pockets heavier and fuller than before. The brothers perked up when they noticed a sign displaying that a show by the magician is about to begin, and when they looked up to their winged friend, she merely nodded in approval.

The boys let out a loud cheer as they quickly disappeared into a tent, shouting that they’ll be back home soon after. And as the little angel sighed and walked towards the first isle, she was completely unaware that she just sent away her main muscle.

The Devil felt an eager, shark-toothed smile as his fingers twitched, just itching to summon his trident. But he had to wait just a little more. Just to make his triumph all the more sweeter.

His imps eagerly trailed after the angel as she headed off into a forest with thickly built trees, now free to follow their friend (the demon felt a bit of bile rise up his throat at the thought) as they left the shadows and bushes. Already a small group of them crowded around her, a few them playfully swatting at each other or at the tiny woman’s large wings. A few others flew nearby, perching onto low branches and screeching down greetings towards the angel. Some of the more smaller imps scattered about in the nearby plants, disappearing and reappearing every few minutes with makeshift gifts.

From tiny, shiny rocks and slightly dirty feathers to dainty or damaged flowers, the imps offered whatever they could to their new favorite person. And while each offering was tiny and overall useless, serving no purpose or holding little value, the angel- ever so _friendly_ and _polite_ \- accepted each one with a smile sweet enough to give the Devil a toothache.

With a bag weighed down with her newly acquired trinkets, the angel paused in the forest path to glance around.

She was likely new to this part of the island, as she took in the immense trees and heavily wooded thicket parallel to her with curious doe-like eyes. She fiddled with the cross around her neck (a habit, the Devil had figured out) as she looked around with a curious eye until she made out the signs ahead, each of them pointing off into different parts of the forest.

Right away, the angel went down the path towards the “Flowerbeds” (figures she chose to go somewhere so pleasant and namby-pamby), a tiny skip in her walk as she eagerly made her way over. A few imps looked a little bored with her choice, exchanging looks of mild protest, but nonetheless kept pace, lest they miss out on a pretty girl smiling at them.

The trees began to lessen as they soon came upon small multicolored patches of brightly colored pansies that sat as the small clearing’s centerpiece. He watched as the angel made a delighted gasp as she quickly made her towards the flowers, a gentle coo making its way out of her as she reached out to touch one.

Meanwhile the imps admittedly had little to no interest in the place, which gave the Devil some form of relief. He didn’t want his minions going soft on him.

The smaller demons nevertheless tried to entertain themselves as the angel settled herself down near the flowerbeds for a tiny nap, whether it be lounging around her or roughhousing with each other.

A small violet imp soon approached the bushes he hidden himself, their nose wiggling as they sniffed at the foliage. Their brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before it melted away into fear. The tiny demon’s body was overcome with trembling, and the Devil knew well that his cover was blown.

He slowly rose from his hiding spot, finding no reason to keeping himself hidden. Leaves fell off his towering form as he stared down at the unlucky imp, his minion turning over to the rest of them.

Soon enough the rest of the imps noticed their king and a look of shock and absolute fear swept over them. They stepped away from the angel, as if they would take his attention away from the defenseless woman- which earned a snort from the larger demon.

“You know, I expected a lot of things from you sorry lot,” he took a step forward, not even bothering to hide his pleased chuckle at how the imps froze in place. “But it sure as hell wasn’t this little tea party.”

The white-hot touch of his trident welcomed itself into his grasp as he grinned down at his unfortunate underlings. Oh, this was going to be _fun_.

“Cozying up with the angel? Our _enemy_?” he took another step forward, trident pointed at the imps as they quickly crowded around each other and trembled. All the while forming a makeshift barricade in front of the sleeping angel.

He clicked his tongue, a disappointed frown on his lips.

“Planning things with her? A _rebellion_?” the imps frantically shook their heads at his accusation, their eyes wide. They knew that their boss was becoming more and more paranoid over the past two months, but they had no clue that it was this bad.

They began to hiss out protests and attempted explanations, stating how he had it all wrong, how he was unreasonable- _delusional._

The Devil scoffed, his eyes wide and pupils beginning to shift and shake violently as they struggled to maintain themselves.

“Oh you’re calling me the delusional one? Need I remind you _insolent little finks_ her friends from above are going to show up sooner or later? That those arrogant rats are going to think we’re the ones who took her away?”

He began to swing his trident around, his voice taking on a feverish, wild tone as he stabbed his trident down towards the imps. The spear missed the imps by a hair as they scattered with shrieks and hisses, the weapon impaling itself in the ground with a sharp stab.

Somehow, the angel remained perfectly oblivious to it all as she slept through the racket. If the Devil was in a more clear state of mind, he would’ve realized that he had a clear shot on his enemy. But he was far too occupied with punishing his imps to deal with one of his biggest problems.

The Devil spun around to see his imps scattered around, the much tinier demons watching him with fearful anticipation. Steam was beginning to pour from his ears as he struggled to control his angry breathing.

“WILL YOU LITTLE SHITS HOLD STILL FOR ONE SECOND?!”

He flew towards them once again, teeth bared and trident outstretched. The imps let out a terrified shriek as they scuttled out of the way, just barely avoiding being trampled by the larger demon.

One unfortunate imp, however, wasn’t able to get away in time. Before they had the chance to jump out of the way, they were slammed into a tree behind them, their neck nearly impaled by the the prong of the Devil’s trident.

The tree splited and groaned from the impact. Pieces of bark flew from the brute force, flying behind the pair with the speed of a bullet.

You were awakened from your nap when you felt something hit your forehead harshly, causing you to groan in pain. Forcing yourself up to sit, you rubbed your eyes as reality soon began to settle itself in.

Tiny trembling hands soon grabbed at your arms, shaking you harshly. You were immediately woken up and met with the sight of a few imps holding on to you, their tiny bodies trembling and eyes wide.

Confused, you looked forward to see the massive, black furred form of the Devil pinning an unfortunate imp to a badly damaged tree. You gasped when you caught sight of the large trident, immediately assuming worst of the tiny demon before the imp quickly pried itself from the prongs with a pop.

Bright yellow eyes met yours and before the tiny imp could even let out a yelp for you to get away, a large grey hand wrapped itself around its neck. The smaller demon made a toy-like squeak as they were quickly shoved back into splintered wood.

The imps towards your sides let out a collective gulp, their hands shaking as they turned towards you- already focused on getting you away from their boss’s clutches. They turned over to you, a hushed hiss ready on their lips, but fell silent when they saw your beet-red angry face.

Instead of feeling any form of terror or fear., like the imps had expected, you felt pure unadulterated anger consume you.

Why did he have to be such a brute over the fact you were here? Not only did he have to take his anger out on you, but now he was taking his anger out on his poor servants? The ones who were only doing what he told them to do in the first place?

  
You could feel your hands shake as you forced yourself on your feet and began to march towards the hulking bully, eager to give him piece of your mind. The shocked cries of the imps fell deaf on your ears as you marched your way over him, your sights set on that wiggling tail of his in front of you.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you grabbed a hold of the thin appendage in front of you and squeezed harshly on the end of it.

A sharp gasp was pulled from the Devil, his shoulders quickly tensing. His grip on the imp loosened considerably, allowing the tiny demon to be able to breath easier. You squeezed down on the pointed end again, this time pulling on it a little bit for good measure.

The Devil made a choked noise as he dropped the imp, almost as if the smaller being was burning him. He gripped onto his trident harshly, his breathing growing heavier the longer you held onto his tail.

The imp quickly scuttled away to the others, the rest of which were giving you a wide-eyed stare, their cheeks slightly darker as they watched you attack their boss.

Of course, little did you know that the poor imp that the Devil tried to strangle earlier had a first-row seat to watching his face melt into restrained bliss.

You, ever oblivious, harshly pulled as you began to reprimand the taller beast in front of you, his back still towards you.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, you brute! Didn’t I already tell you to leave me alone? You just HAD to send your workers out on me! And then have the absolute NERVE to get mad at them when they don’t do your dirty work!”

Another tug, another choked groan.

“What is your problem with me? I already told you I don’t know why I’m here, nor do I even want to go back to your stinking casino! What more do you want from me, you, you.. You bully!”

The Devil gripped a clawed hand onto the tree, splitting the already damaged wood harshly as he struggled to keep his composure. He could feel the harsh sting turn into something he _really_ shouldn’t be feeling right now, pure heat beginning to build up in his core and shoot down to ah… less than pure areas.

Of course, you were completely innocent to the fact that he was feeling anything other than pain right now. You simply kept tugging at the appendage as you kept shouting at him.

“Are you just this stubborn? My heavens! Do you have any idea how sick I am of having to deal with this nonsense?! No! Of course you don’t! You’re too busy being too stubborn and arrogant to think about anything other than your dumb pride!”

You would’ve kept yelling hadn’t been for the fact that the same imp the Devil tried to strangle tapped you on the shoulder, causing you to pause to turn to them. Their expression held a more sheepish quality, not the fear that you thought it was. They managed out a small, quiet hiss and pointed at the larger demon’s tail.

They motioned for you to drop it, their cheeks a dark shade of purple as they avoided eye contact with you. The sound of splitting wood caused you to look back towards the Devil, who was now staring at you.

His dark cheeks seemed to have taken on a reddish glow about them, pupils dilating and contracting as he tried to control his breathing. He stared down at you with a piercing stare, puffs of hot air escaping his mouth as he struggled to speak.

“Let” he gasped, his voice taking on a slightly breathy, husky tone. “G-go.”

You blink dumbly for a moment, turning back to the imp, who now held their face in their hands as steam rose up from their brightly-lit face. You turned back to the Devil, who looked ready to plead for mercy. Curious, you tugged on his tail once again, a bit more gently this time.

The demon gasped once again, tearing off the bark of the tree he was man-handling as his pupils contracted into hearts for a split second before going back to their normal cat-like slit.

Then it all hit you at the speed of a freight train.

You weren’t hurting the Devil. You were doing the exact opposite.

You quickly let out a high-pitched, mortified shriek as you practically threw his tail away from you, your face burning now in pure embarassment.

“I-I,” you floundered, completely lost on what to do or say. It’s not like one could simply say ‘hey, sorry I grabbed your rear, no harm intended’. Except you were likely doing something far worse than that.

Oh dear heavens.

“I-I had no idea that would h-happen” you desperately tried to keep your composure as the Devil tried to fix what was left of his, your heart slamming into your rib cage.

To his credit, the Devil didn’t say anything as he grabbed his tail to keep it from your reach, turning towards you with an expression one can only described as pure humiliation mixed with desperation to save face.

He stared down at you for a moment, his tail wiggling in his hand before he shook his head.

“I..” he started before stopping himself. He instead opted to look to his imps, who all nervously watched him.

“We’re leaving” his tone held no room for protest as he quickly yanked his trident out of the tree with little struggle.

With a quick stab in the air, the Devil had a portal to Hell open and stepped within. You turned towards the crowd of imps behind you. And much like the imp who stopped you, they too avoided your gaze as they quickly made their way over to their boss, heads hung low.

The smaller demons stepped within and gave you one final goodbye as the Devil quickly shut the portal back up, almost as if he was slamming a door closed.

You were simply left standing in the flowerbeds with burning cheeks and mortified, at a complete loss for words.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to let you guys know, but if you guys want to interact with me more, you can always come visit the newly created tumblr blog I made! I'll be mostly posting updates/plans on there to not keep you guys in the dark like I did twice now, but I'll answer any asks if you guys have on my fics or just wanna hang out, you're free to do so! Link: https://love-minor-poltergeist.tumblr.com/
> 
> Comments and Criticisms are welcomed!


	11. Revenge ain't as sweet as he thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the angel decides to apologize for the sake of her sanity and gets more than she bargained for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: hey I'm going to make this chapter all CUTE.
> 
> Narrator voice: And then she didn't.

_“More water, miss?”_

 

_“Yes, thank you.,” you shot your waiter a weak smile as he nodded and refilled your glass without hesitation._

 

_He glances over to the empty seat across your table, a small frown on his face. The blonde glances back over to you, his brow creased in confusion._

 

_“Are you sure you still want to wait for your date, miss? You haven’t ordered anything since you came in....”_

 

_“Oh, i-it’s not a date. It’s just a business meeting,” you flushed at the implication and pulled out the manilla folder you brought with you, as if that would help quell the heat in your cheeks._

 

_Though your appearance didn’t exactly look like you were going to a business meeting. Instead of wearing your standard white suit jacket and slim skirt, you decided to put on a more formal dress that complimented your figure nicely with some hints of sweet perfume on your neckline. You even got a little bold and put on some pink lipstick while you were getting ready._

 

_Overall, your outfit definitely looked far more fitting for a young woman waiting on her date rather than someone who was asked to lunch by her handsome superior to discuss paperwork._

 

_“I believe he’s just running late is all. You know how the offices get sometimes. Just mountains of paperwork on everyone’s desk” a nervous laugh was threatening to tear itself from your throat at this point._

 

_“I mean, even if he did cancel, I’m sure he’d-“ you stopped yourself there, now noticing the look of concern and surprise on the man’s face. You quickly clammed up there and opted to look at your lap instead. Yep, shutting up and NOT bothering literal strangers sounded great right about now._

 

_“I-I see, miss,” was all the befuddled angel could say._

 

_A heavy pause fell the between the two of you, leaving the two of you to awkwardly wait for the other to make a move; You wondered why the young man was still serving you and not attending the other diners, considering the only thing you’ve done since you got in was just take up space._

 

_Nervously biting down on your lip, you tightly clasped the strap of your purse. What if he didn’t show up? It wasn’t exactly a date per say, since it was just to talk about work and all, you think it would be just downright silly of you to actually get so upset about it._

 

_But then again, how could your hopeful little mind not think so? After all he was the one to approach you first about going out somewhere after work hours. Those lovely lips of his were curled up into a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle when he brought up going to a more upper-scale dining establishment in the higher levels of heaven._

 

_At the time, you nearly spat out at your coffee at the proposal, cheek bright red. Thankfully, you only really ended up choking on said drink, much to the amusement of the taller angel. After you managed to stop coughing enough to give a somewhat fast yes, the man clapped his hands in delight._

 

_“Excellent! I’d love to discuss the most recent reports over a delicious meal! My treat!” you remember him saying as he walked away, his expensive shoes tapping against the marble floor._

 

_He looked so eager to spend time with you then, you saw it in the twinkle in those lovely green eyes of his. But then again, maybe you just misread him? Perhaps you were just letting your poor heart get the better of you?_

 

_“Miss?”_

 

_You jumped in your seat, startled from your anxious thoughts. Cheeks bright red, you meekly clear your throat._

 

_“O-Oh, I’m sorry. Just, just… Give me a few more minutes, please? I’ll order something then, I swear,” you clutched the untouched menu in front of you for emphasis, as if he would snatch it away any moment._

 

_The waiter gave you a somewhat exasperated look before he forced a smile on his face and gave you a nod. He muttered under his breath as he left to attend to the other diners, leaving you alone to deal with your thoughts._

 

_Sighing, you grabbed your cup and took another sip. You soon take to looking around the restaurant, desperate to look for anything to distract you from your over active mind._

 

_As you would expect from a restaurant that’s located in the more upper levels of heaven, the entire establishment was quite beautiful and radiated elegance in every corner._

 

_The entire building was dimly lit, the only sources of light being the low-hanging stained glass chandeliers, which bathed the entire room in an array of kaleidoscopic colors. Piano and string music filled the air, giving the room an air of sophistication as the sounds of forks and knives clinking against plates surrounded you._

 

_Angels of all shapes and sizes sat around you, each one wearing clothes that outclassed yours in every aspect and made you look plain in comparison. Their voices blended into an unclear ocean of noise, filling your body with more nerves and made you much more self conscious over how you were the only one sitting alone._

 

_You squirmed in the silver velvet lined chair, fiddling with the menu in front of you. Eating was the last thing on your mind, the thought of it making your stomach churn uncomfortably. You bit the inside of your cheek, going back to searching for any signs of your not-date, date - whatever he was - by the door._

 

_And just like the many times before, you found no signs of him._

 

_Is it possible that you were being stood up? That this was all some sick ploy put on by the upper angel? Just to get your pathetic little hopes up, only to quickly crush them?_

 

_You bit on your lower lip, the taste of copper beginning to fill your mouth. The restaurant began to grow blurry as hot, fat tears slowly formed. Sobs were threatening to rack your body and you bit down harder on your lip, desperate to hold on to the tiny shred of dignity you had left._

 

_Blood began to trickle out quicker as you fought the urge to breakdown, the room growing overbearingly hot. Your chest felt unbearingly tight, your pulse quickening as you struggled to suck in deep breaths._

 

_With a shaky hand, you reached for the glass of water in front of you. The sound of a plate shattering against the floor echoed loudly, causing you to squeak loudly and jumped in your chair. You gasped as water splashed onto your lap, soaking your dress and the manila folder in your lap._

 

_Before you could try to stop yourself, tears began to freely fall down your face, leaving behind wet streaks that made the tiny bit of mascara run. Dark, murky black-stained tears clouded your vision as you choked on your breath. An ugly sob soon tore itself from your throat, your shoulders shaking as you covered your mouth._

 

_Your pink lipstick smudged onto your gloves, likely ruining the fabric, but that was the last thing on your mind right now. All you could do right now was sob like a child, humiliation and anguish filling your body._

 

_The entire room fell silent, the diners’ conversations coming to a complete halt as you covered your face. You could feel their eyes burning holes into your body, your skin breaking out into goosebumps and face somehow growing redder under all the attention._

 

_Why did he just leave you here? Was it something you said? Was it the way you look? Were you just a little doll for him to play with, for him to dress up and dote over until he loses interest and tosses you away?_

 

_Or maybe you were just lost in your wishful thinking? After all, how could a man as a beautiful as he was and powerful as he was be interested in a lowly little bird like you? For him to actually show any interest in you would be a miracle that even the lord above won’t be able to deliver. And yet despite the fact that you knew this, you let yourself get excited anyway._

 

_Perhaps you were just a bigger fool than you thought. You had enough flaws to fill up an entire list, and yet still thought you had a chance for love._

 

_You were just another little bird in the flock. There was nothing special about you._

 

_Hundreds of whispering and murmuring voices broke out, all of them whispering and giggling at your misery. Some of them offered condolences towards the poor higher-up you had a crush on, that he had to deal with a nasty little thing like you. He was pristine, something that was absolutely unattainable for someone like you, they hissed into your ear. Some whispered how you could ever think that he would have an interest in someone like you, someone who had the gall to pull a filthy stunt like you did._

 

 _A few of them cackled, shouting that they knew about what you thought. About how they knew about how you thought of their home,_ **_heaven’s_ ** _worst enemy, the very man who tried to destroy it and take it for himself in a provocative way. How you outright groped him, pawing at him to fulfill your filthy wants and desires like a lowly harlot._

 

_You gasped at these accusations, shame filling your heart as the voices kept hissing out degradations._

 

_“No! None of that is true!” you shot up from your seat, your brows and lips pulled back in pure anguish. “I didn’t mean to do it! I didn’t know he would react like that! I would never!”_

 

_“LIAR! LIAR!” the voices chanted in unison._

 

_“PERVERT! PERVERT!” they crowed._

 

_You collapsed, holding your face as you began to sob even harder._

 

_“Even the Devil doesn’t want you!” shouted one voice, causing the others to break out into mocking laughter, their voices shifting to a deeper, sinister pitch. “You’re filthy enough for the Devil to be disgusted by you!”_

 

_A bright light goes off in pitch black restaurant, the light projecting onto a wall. The light glowed blue for a moment, soon switching to a brief countdown. You watched with mute horror as the numbers finally hit zero, an iron weight settling itself in your stomach._

 

_In black and white, you see the Devil’s mortified expression onto the wall, the moving image blown up ten times it size. Absolutely powerless, you watched on with a heavy heart as you watch your projected self pull on his tail, a much more carnal expression on your face. It was an exaggeration of what actually happened, but you still felt the weight in your stomach grow worse despite this knowledge. The Devil’s face took on a bright shade of red as you pulled away, his thin lips pulled into a deep frown of humiliation._

 

_The tears fell down harder as shame flooded your chest, the now distorted voices loudly booing at the projected memory. You can hear them hurl more hurtful insults your way as you covered your ears, wings curled around you._

 

_A bright blue shined down on you, fully illuminating your pathetic form. You began to shake as the voices began to boo, revulsion and disgust in their tones as they slung more insults your way._

 

_“LECHER! PERVERT OF AN ANGEL!” and so on, each one beginning to batter down on your already guilty conscious._

 

_Another light went off in the restaurant, revealing the beautiful upper angel you’ve been waiting for all evening. The white light illuminated his entire form, showing off the disgusted frown on his face as he stared into your eyes. His eyes were as sharp as glass shards as he glared down at you._

 

 _“You thought I would ever want someone like you?” he laughed with a outraged smile, his eyes crinkled the same way you loved while he stared down at you with nothing but pure contempt._  
_  
_ Your tongue felt heavy and useless as he laughed, his voice becoming distorted and reaching a hellish pitch. The other voices joined in as they watched as you desperately covered your ears, curling up into a ball as distorted laughter rang loudly in your head.

 

_A pair of shadow-like hands reached out towards you, its spider-like fingers twitching frantically. They grabbed onto your shoulders, their grip tight and painful as sharp nails dug into the naked flesh. Before you can even make a noise, they begun to violently shake you._

_\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

Mugman and Cuphead gotten up earlier than their housemate this morning, much to he and his older brother’s surprise.

 

They noticed that their normally well-put-together friend had been acting strange since about a week ago. She would often look outside the window, a worried look on her face as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. Sometimes during conversations she would end up spacing out, her brows furrowed, as if she was lost in thought.

 

She’d taken to reading more than going outside and whenever she was asked why, her face would go bright red before shaking her head and shooing them away. What really concerned the both of them was the time when they had managed to get the same delivery route together.

 

It was their last day of “community service” with the baroness and so they were assigned to deliver a large cake for Werner’s birthday.

 

The walk towards his house seemed normal enough at the time - heck, even their normally awkward sis managed to crack a few jokes here and there. When they finally got there and knocked on his door, the older mouse appeared before them with his robotic cat in tow.

 

He had greeted them with his thick German accent, a smile on his face as he readily accepted the dessert. The large mouse glanced over to their friend, his pleased smile melting into a confused frown. His brows furrowed as he held on to the bright pink box, the cigar in his mouth dangling from his teeth as his eyes took on a concerned note.

 

“ _Fraulein?_ Is there something the matter?”

 

A bit confused, the brothers turn over to you. Much to their utter surprise, you were staring at the large mechanical cat with a wistful stare. Your bottom lip quivered slightly as you shook your head, your eyes oddly glassy and cheeks flushed.

 

You just about looked ready to cry, but you merely gave the concerned man a watery smile and told him that his cat reminded you of something.

 

Blinking rapidly, you then politely excused yourself from the conversation and walked away, your heels rapidly clicking against the pavement.

 

The two brothers shot each other a shared look of worry there, concern for their friend filling their chests as they watched her quietly try to regain her composure- her shoulders shaking slightly with each breath.

 

Both of the boys wanted to desperately ask you what’s wrong, the sight of you acting so strange upsetting them greatly. You’ve only acted like this a month ago right after the casino fiasco. And if they didn’t like seeing you upset then, they certainly didn’t like seeing you upset now!

 

Which lead them to now.

 

After realizing that they woke up earlier than normal, Cuphead simply tried to shake it off at first. His grin was slightly forced as he patted at his brother’s shoulder and quickly remarked that their feathered sis was probably just having a lazy day.

 

Mugman then pointed out that their friend _always_ got up earlier than them to help Elder Kettle prepare breakfast, regardless if she was feeling sluggish that day. Cuphead then snorted, worry clear as day in his large eyes as he shrugged off his brother’s observation.

 

When they were done getting dressed and heard tiny whimpers from their housemate’s room, the two of them exchanged looks of concern. Were you having a nightmare? Was there someone in your room?

 

With a nervous gulp, Mugman was the first one to step up to the plate as he knocked on their friend’s door. The whimpers didn’t stop, causing Mugman to open up the door with a nervous frown. He was relieved to see that you were physically fine, but his relief didn’t last long when the boys heard you mumble out in your sleep.

 

“No...I didn’t mean to do it...I didn’t know.” you squirmed, your brows tensed and a frown on your face as you tossed and turned in your bed.

 

Mugman and Cuphead shared a look, utterly lost at your incoherent sleep-talking. You were having a nightmare, but what did you mean? Mugman looked to his older brother, who gav him a simple shrug.

 

Cuphead gently nudged his younger brother forward, who gave him an annoyed look before the blue mug huffed and tiptoed over to your sleeping form. He took a deep breath before he gently grabbed onto your shoulders.

 

“Hello? P-please wake up?” he slowly shook you, causing you to gently shake your head with your eyes still closed. You continued to sleepily mumble, a frown on your resting face as you kept shaking your head.

 

“Here, Mugs, let me have a try!” Cuphead moved his brother over and quickly grabbed onto you. Before Mugman could even stop him, the older cup shook you much harder, causing your head to shake frantically from the sheer force.

 

“Good golly Cuphead, you’re going to break her neck!”

 

Cuphead huffed and rolled his eyes, turning over to his brother. Just as he was about to make a sarcastic remark, you began to tremble in his arms. Your eyes fluttered as you mumbled under your breath. You slowly opened your eyes.

 

“Oh hey! Look she’s-”

 

“I AM NOT A PERVERT!” your voice cracked as you shouted.

 

You shoved your hand forward, still not quite awake as you blindly lashed out toward the shadowy hands from your dream grabbing at you.

 

Something stiff hit your hand roughly and a loud squeak followed shortly after, quickly snapping you out of your tired state.

 

Blinking, you’re met with the headless body of Cuphead. A few seconds pass, your mind still trying to register what you’re looking at.  
  
Then you let out a shriek loud enough to wake up the dead.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After nearly giving poor Elder Kettle a heart attack and nearly deafening the boys, you later found yourself at the dining table as the old kettle passed you a plate of eggs and bacon. You readily accepted the food with a tiny thank you, your cheeks flushed slightly as Mugman passed the pitcher of orange juice towards you.

 

You were more than a little embarrassed at how long it took you the boys to get you to calm down, hurriedly assuring you that no, you didn’t accidentally kill Cuphead and that he was just fine. What especially was mortifying was the fact that as the older cup put his head back on, he also reassured you weren’t a pervert, either.

 

Elder Kettle hummed as he turned off the stove, his cane thumping against the wooden floor as he took a seat at the table. Sure enough, the four of you began to dig into your breakfast, the air full of easy going conversation and the smell of coffee and cooked food.

  
You made a few comments here and there, along with eating the food that’s been given to you, but you can’t help but feel a little out of it.

 

And how couldn’t you? Ever since last week, you haven’t seen the imps anywhere. Neither has the Devil tried to pull anything on you. It was as if they just vanished from your life all together, leaving alone to hold an uncomfortable weight in your conscious the entire time.

 

At first, you tried to shrug off the whole experience all together. After all, you’ve technically won that battle, so what do you have to worry about? At least you finally got that bully to leave you alone, right?

 

But every night since then, every time you tried to close your eyes to go to sleep the horribly uncomfortable face of the Devil kept showing up in your mind, each time reminding you of the deep, breathy groans he let out at your touch and the urgency in his retreat.

 

You then realized that you felt guilty over what you’ve done. And yet, you still continued to try and shrug it off. Soon enough, the dreams started. The same, cursed dream that you had this morning had been haunting you all week, eating away at your consciousness and sanity.

 

With each passing day where you’ve tried to ignore it, the dreams increased in intensity each time until got to the point where you were afraid of going to bed.

 

Your fork met your now empty plate with a tiny clink. Then a tiny frown made its way onto your face. Even now you can’t properly enjoy eating a single thing because of your troubled mind.

 

Soon enough, the boys and Elder Kettle finished up and you set out to clean the dishes with Elder Kettle. The boys quickly excused themselves and quickly left, shouting something about finding a way to spend all the money they earned from tips from the deliveries you’ve done with them.

 

Which left you alone with Elder Kettle. The old tin kettle hummed as he collected the tableware, piling them all up as he gently walked over to you, the plates shaking slightly in his old hand.

 

“Oh! Elder Kettle, would you like me to take those for you? I can-”

 

“I’m quite alright handling it, dear,” the kettle smiled as he placed the pile of dirty dishes next to you, his cane thumping as he made his way over to the drying rack next to you. You readily grabbed the towel near the window and handed it over to the older man, earning a smile in response.

 

The sound of the rushing water from the sink and the clinks of the plates filled the air, the two of you quiet as the both of you worked away. The water was warm and soothing against your bare hands, your shoulders relaxing as you let the warmth envelop your hands.

 

Elder Kettle began to quietly hum beside you, his voice pleasing to the ear as he dried the plates and placed them on the rack, a relaxed smile on his face.

 

Coupled with the warm rays of the sun pouring into the kitchen and covering you like a freshly washed blanket, you felt yourself breathing easier as you quietly hummed along with the older man. The two of you basked in the warmth as you hummed a tiny duet, the notes made up as the two of you went along.

 

For the first time in a week, you didn’t feel the weight of the horribly awkward experience or your situation on your shoulders, and you found yourself breathing much more easier as you gently swayed as you scrubbed away bits of food.

 

“How’re you feeling, dear? Better?”

 

You stopped and nearly dropped a plate into the soapy water from the sudden question, but you quickly gave the older man a small smile.

 

“I do feel a bit better now, Elder Kettle.”

  
The old kettle returned your smile as he placed a dry plate onto the rack, his mustache curled upward from the motion.

 

“I’m glad, dear.”

 

A brief silence falls between the two of you again, the rushing water the only sound in the room. You bit at your lower lip, the plate in your hands especially dirty. Should you talk to him about what happened a week ago? Granted, you’ll have to omit a few details here and there, but...

 

You glanced over to him out of the corner of your eye, the kettle waiting for you to pass the next dish over to him with patience. Would he be upset if you told him? Would he view you any differently for what you’ve done? The idea made you shake your head slightly; Elder Kettle has been nothing but accepting of you since day one. What would hurt if you just talked to him?

 

“Elder Kettle?”

 

“Yes, dear?”

 

“I might’ve messed up a week ago...” you hesitate as you squirted a small dollop of dish soap onto the plate in your hands, the suds quickly beginning to form.

 

The kettle hummed for a brief moment, his face unmoving as he stared down at the plate in your hands.

 

“How so?”

 

You flushed as you grabbed the sponge.

 

“I may h-have, ah, accidentally did something d-dirty towards someone..”

 

Your felt the heat in your cheeks grow worse as Elder Kettle let out a loud cough, his eyes widening for a moment before he shook his head. He stared at you, silently asking for you to continue.

 

“Um, s-so...He isn’t exactly the n-nicest person. He’s actually k-kind of a bully...” you licked your lips nervously. “S-so I got mad. And then I-I...p-pulled his tail because I thought it would maybe teach him a l-lesson.”

 

You could just feel the urge to curl up and die rise as you scrubbed plate clean.

 

“...It didn’t,” the last part came out as a tiny, slightly squeaky whisper as you shakily passed the now spotless dish towards the older man, your face practically on fire.

 

He readily accepted the plate and silently wiped away, not saying a single word. It wasn’t until the plate was placed in the rack that he finally said something.

 

“...Have you apologized yet?”

 

You coughed, shaking your head with red cheeks and an embarrassed frown.

 

“..I see. Is this why you were so hesitant on leaving the house?”

 

He looked over to you and you coughed out a tiny yes, your face practically ready to explode from how red it was.

 

The two of you fall silent again and you slowly scrubbed your hands clean with leftover suds- more so for a distraction than to actually clean them. Elder Kettle was being awfully silent and it made your poor nerves even more stressed out. Nervously, you lick your lips before breaking the silence first.

 

“I-It’s not that I don’t want to, Elder Kettle. It’s just that I d-don’t know how to a-apologize without getting embarrassed.”

 

Not to mention that you really, _really_ didn’t want to go see him, since you highly doubt you can look him straight in the eyes without remembering how his face melted into bliss or how he avoided looking at you.

 

The older man let out a sigh and wiped his hands, his mustache drooping slightly.

 

“Dear, if you don’t mind my honesty here, I think you need to go say you’re sorry to him. Face to face.”

 

You bit your lip as you inwardly shrieked, dread filling your form. He was absolutely correct, but…

 

“He’s a little hard to approach, Elder Kettle. A-and, well, I don’t really know how to…”

 

The older man hummed and stroked his mustache, his face lost in thought. You paused as you held a towel in your hands, a strange feeling in your stomach. What was this man planning? He suddenly let out a loud ‘Ah -ha!’ and thumped his cane on the floor,  making you jump as he looked towards you.

 

“Dear, would you mind getting me the sheet pan?

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Hey, Marni?” Whiskey quietly whispered as he shook a drink up for a customer, glancing over to the female glass next to him.

 

“...Yes, Whisk?” Ms. Martini replied in normal volume as she placed a daiquiri in front of a skeleton in a blue dress.

 

She didn’t understand why her co-worker was whispering to her when he was literally right next to her. And the casino was fairly loud even its more recent slower days, but she supposed the taller bottle had taken a few sips of the stronger stuff before they started the day.

 

“Have you seen the boss?”

 

“Dice? Whisk, he’s right over-”

 

“No!” the younger man quickly interrupted, his voice still in the same stage whisper. The bottle quickly looked around, the amber liquid within him sloshing loudly with the movement as he plopped the order down.

 

“I mean the big boss man,” he whispered, his light brown eyes taking on a slightly frantic look as he leaned in. “You know? The head honcho? The big man downstairs? Our boy in black-”

 

“I get it, Whisk,” she could feel an annoyed frown begin to pull on her painted lips. “...And no, I haven’t seen him today. None of us have.”

 

The martini glass reached over and grabbed the money left over by the skeleton, quickly stashing it away in the box under the counter. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head and it took everything within her to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

 

“Whisk. No one’s seen him in a while. How the hell do you expect me to know anything?”

 

And she was right - the Devil’s favorite balcony seat had sat empty for a while, the velvet lining beginning to collect dust from lack of use. No one’s seen hide nor hair of him since last week, the large demon somehow managing to disappear without a trace. In the matter of a short span of time, the casino’s owner practically became a ghost to his staff and patrons.

 

The only thing that really reminded everyone that he didn’t run off somewhere was the fact that the imps were still here, up to their normal routine of causing mischief around the place and generally being the same nuisances they always were.

 

Though, even the lesser demons were beginning to act strangely without their king around. They imps were starting to become restless without the larger demon around, now taking to harassing customers to alleviate their boredom, much to the chagrin of King Dice.

 

Speaking of their manager, he still dealt cards out on the floors, a wide businessman’s smile on his face as he joked and laughed with gamblers, still keeping up the act where he pretended everything was just peaches while the Devil was off doing anything but work.

 

The Tipsy Troop still saw him in the less busy hours of the day, the die always ordering the same drink and nursing it for however long he can pass the time doing nothing. He still stared at the cool glass in his hand with that unreadable expression, those green eyes of his a storm of troubled thoughts and emotions.

 

Luckily though, it seemed that he was in a good mood today. Or rather, he’s been in a better mood since the last two months. He frequently checked up on them many times today, but thankfully never ordered anything since today was slightly more busy than usual, much to the die’s relief.

 

He actually had something other than mountains of paperwork to attend to, which lightened his spirits significantly. The die even hummed a little as he worked, a tiny smile on his face as the cards in his sleeves quietly made cheery chirps. Which got Ms. Martini to feel warmer than she’d like to admit.

 

“What do you think he’s been up to?” Whiskey whispered as the two of them began to wait for more customers to come order, much to the female glass’s annoyance.

 

“I don’t know, Whisk. Stop asking me dumb questions,” she could already feel the traces of a headache begin to form in the rim of her head. Oh, today was going to be a _long_ day.

 

“All I’m just saying is-”  
  
“Evening, fellas,” came the smooth voice of King Dice.

 

Whiskey made an awkward sound between a squeak and shriek and Ms. Martini jumped in surprise from the sudden appearance of her manager. She was used to the weird noises Whiskey can make, not so much to King Dice showing up out of nowhere.

 

The die stared at the taller glass for a moment, his brow raised and a slightly confused frown on his face before he shook his head. He quickly made himself comfortable on a leather stool, casually adjusting his bow tie, all the while completely oblivious to how he’d nearly given his employees a heart attack.

 

Ms. Martini clutched her hand to her chest, still experiencing the last few traces of surprise fade as her heartbeat calmed down. Seeing that his coworker was still recovering, Whiskey was the first to break the silence.

 

“Hey, boss. You need anything?”

 

“Just a drink. Nothing too heavy, though,” he said as he tapped on the counter with a fingertip and soon a glass of light alcohol was placed in front of him.

 

The die quickly downed it, the pleasant buzz and warmth settling into his stomach as he placed the empty glass on the counter. He let out a tiny hum and idly tapped at the counter.

 

It’s been a while since he felt this pleasant and not having the constant weight of the casino’s declining activity crushing his shoulders.

 

The Devil had been absent for a week now, shutting himself away in his personal tower. Dice had visited him a few times during said absence, but never lingered long before the demon shouted for him to go away.

 

This normally would’ve been put a damper on his mood, but since the demon had actually started to do some paperwork, he couldn’t quite complain. It certainly made his job much easier now that Dice didn’t have to spend most of his days holed up in his office, trapped in the routine of signing forms like he had been doing for the past two months.

 

Though, his boss on the other hand… Dice tapped the counter again and another drink was placed down in front of him. Ms. Martini and Whiskey shared a look, their lips spread into a worried frown.

 

The Devil had been much...grouchier this past week, to put it lightly.

 

In addition to the fact he decided to lock himself away like an angry cat licking its wounds, the demon’s already thin patience had reached a new, far lower limit in the course of a single day. It had gotten to the point where even the imps couldn’t even try going in his tower, the Devil popping out of nowhere and immediately hissing at them.

  
The few instances Dice had come in to pick up some paperwork, their interactions were reduced to a few words before the Devil sent him away with a veiled threat if he asked any questions. Dice would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little worried about his boss.  
  
He sipped at his drink, the amber liquid burning pleasantly in his throat.

 

Old Satan wasn’t exactly one for sharing how he felt, often bottling his emotions up and isolating himself for a period of time before he acted like everything was fine. And since he’s worked long enough to know his boss’s pattern, it was one of those instances.

 

Though, these episodes never lasted this long before. What was bothering the demon to the point where he didn’t even want Dice around him?

 

He raised the glass towards his lips again only for a few drops to his tongue. The die groaned and rubbed his temples, frustration settling into his brain like a fly to a corpse. What was he going to do with him?

 

Their manager began to lean on the counter for support, the die muttering under his breath as he closed purple eyelids. Martini could feel her chest tighten up in concern, the taller glass beside her biting his lip and furrowing his brows.

 

Just as the glasses were about to get a glass of water for their manager, a pair of large white wings sprouted out from behind King Dice; catching the bartenders completely off guard as the both of them jumped.

 

Whiskey made a startled noise and the empty glass in his hand slipped from his weakened grip as Ms. Martini blinked, her painted lips parting into an ‘o’ as she rapidly blinked.

 

The sound of glass shattering forced Dice to blink and shake his head, finally forced from his thoughts as to look up at his employees. He was met with the glasses staring dumbly at him, their eyes wide with surprise and their posture stiff; completely oblivious to the mess of shards on the floor.

 

A frown already beginning to form, he gruffly cleared his throat. The noise startled the two employees enough to stare back at him directly. Neither of them said anything as the die tapped his finger on the counter, waiting for the two of them to explain themselves.

 

Though only a few seconds passed before the Die spoke again.

 

“What is it with-”

 

“U-um...” the die blinked for a moment, surprised at the sudden voice appearing behind him.

 

“W-would you happen to know where the Devil is?” the voice timidly asked. “I-I n-need to talk to him.”

 

...Well, they certainly got straight to the point.

 

Dice clicked his tongue, the mask of professionalism back on his face as he rose from his chair. He carefully readjusted his bow tie as he turned around, the tails of his suit jacket swishing with the movement, only to be met with nothing.

 

Blinking, he looked to his left and right, and he finally looked down when the small voice loudly cleared their throat.

 

Right in front of him was the angel from a month ago, standing in all her white-winged glory. Her face was a bright shade of pink, fully showing off the scar from their last encounter on her cheek. She stared up at with him with wide eyes, her lips parted with awe.

 

Something shifted by her side, which brought Dice’s attention to the tiny basket by her side. It was the kind of basket a child would bring to an easter egg hunt, the bright yellow and pink of the wicker proving to be a colorful eye-sore. A small blanket laid above its mouth, thoroughly concealing its contents.

 

The smaller woman gently coughed, her wings curling around her protectively. She looked off to the side for a moment, her lips curled into a tiny frown. It took a few seconds for her to gather her courage as she looked back at the far taller man.

 

“Do you know where the Devil is?” she repeated more firmly, her eyes carrying a hint of fear.

 

“...Depends,” he found himself eyeing the cross dangling from her neck, “...Why do you need to talk to him, dollface?”

 

She flushed a brighter pink, her courage quickly falling apart as she cleared her throat. Her grip on the handle of the basket tightened and her wings folded themselves further over her shoulders.

 

“I-I, ah, came to apologize to him.”

 

A pregnant pause fell between the two of them, the bartenders staring on in confused silence.

 

“...Pardon me?” he had to be hearing that wrong. Apologize? For _what_?

 

“I-I came to say sorry,” she repeated in a smaller voice, her blush growing worse.

 

Dice was dumbfounded.

 

He can feel his brow twitch as he folded his arms behind his back, not quite sure what to do with them now.

 

Did anyone ever come to him for this sort of thing? The die couldn’t quite scrape up any past instances like these, unsure if anyone wanted to outright _apologize_ to the _Devil_ of all people before. Hell, has anyone ever apologized to him before?

 

“Is there a reason why?” the die inwardly cursed at how unsure his voice sounded as he stared at the tiny woman, not at all happy that she managed to stun him.

 

The angel made a choked noise as her face became as bright as a tomato, her knuckles likely turning white under her gloves from how hard she was gripping the basket. She awkwardly smiled and glanced off to the side.

 

If she got any redder Dice wondered if her head would explode (not that he was worried about her, but more so he would have to find someone to quickly clean the mess up).

 

“I-I’d rather not say it here, sir. I don’t think the Devil would be very happy if I told you...”

 

“And why not?” he found himself getting annoyed at her vague answers. What did she even by that, anyway?

 

She made a pathetic squeak as her shoulders tensed, the already exasperated, awkward-looking smile growing wider on her cheeks. The angel was practically the spitting image of a woman who was dying on the inside and would rather be anywhere but here.

 

“It’s embarrassing to talk about, sir.” she bit her lip as she squirmed for a moment, desperate to get her bearings. “I-I can explain the whole thing better if y-you show me where he is.”

 

Dice rose a brow as he stared at the smaller woman, absolutely bewildered at the whole situation. It was absolutely bold of the little dame in front of him to make an offer like that, much less ask him to deliver to her to his boss.

 

He bit the inside of his cheek, his hands tightening behind his hand as he mentally stewed over the little bird’s request. There wasn’t much to do around the floors today, as with a quick glance over to the tables he dealt at earlier showed that they were quickly taken over. And the casino patrons looked entertain regardless, what with how they readily threw their winnings away as they raised the bets.

 

With the tables full and the few people around, the only thing he really had on his plate was his dim, rather dreary at this point office; where paperwork and a private stock of alcohol eagerly waited for him. Dice had to admit, the alcohol part seemed a little tempting to him.

 

But then again, the die pondered as he looked back to the angel in front of him. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t even a little curious of the whole situation. After all, this _was_ the first time something like this actually happened. And judging from how red the poor thing was, there had to be quite the story behind it.

 

The die hummed as he stared down at her, causing the shorter woman to squirm under his stare.

 

He could just outright say no and make her go home. But then again, this could explain why his boss locked himself up for a week. Plus if the whole thing ended up backfiring on her, he could at least have something to laugh over for the next few days...

 

A cough from the angel forced Dice from his thoughts; her eyes staring at him expectantly and her hands still nervously holding the tiny basket in her hands. With how she looked, her eyes round, wide, and nervous like a trapped rabbit, Dice found a smile forming on his lips.

 

Oh, what the hell. He could spare a couple of minutes for a good laugh.

 

Dice smiled and offered up his arm, the angel gently grabbing on it as he began moving forward.

 

“Right this way, doll.”

\------------------------------------------------------

 

The moment you grabbed onto the mystery man’s arm, your stomach sunk. You at first tried to quell your doubts as he lead you into a hallway, the loud laughter of gamblers and imps growing faint the farther you walked with him, but you only found the weight grow worse.

 

Neither of you said a thing for a few moments, the sound of both of your shoes clicking against chessboard tiles serving as enough conversation. Your eyes darted about the hall, eager to distract yourself from the situation you put yourself into.

 

But as you took in the deep wine red of the aged wallpaper surrounding you; the massive, hefty doors that dwarfed your height greatly; the occasional break in the intricate patterns of the walls to deep tears that left the thin cover hanging low and how frequently they appeared the farther you walked down the empty hall…

 

Well. You only made the sinking feeling in your stomach grow worse.

 

The die next to you didn’t look the least bit perturbed as he passed them, even going as far to let out a tiny chuckle at the sight of them. You gulped and held the basket close to your chest.

  
You could feel your heartbeat against the basket, your chest aching from the tension. At this point you just wanted to say to heck with the plan and just dump the basket on the floor, but you knew well that won’t fix the guilt or make the horrible dreams go away.

 

The taller man at your side halted in front of a gold-gated elevator, leaving you to stumble in your tracks. He pried your hand off his arm and strolled forward. With a loud screech that bounced off the towering walls, the golden gates eased themselves open, revealing an intricately patterned interior.

 

He stepped inside with a hum and turned to face you; bright green eyes watching you expectantly. Behind him was a large golden snake head, its gaping jaw revealing large fangs that could easily break through your skin.

 

Surely he didn’t expect you to willingly go in?

 

“You coming, doll?”

 

Your stare still locked onto the large snake’s head, you slowly nodded and stepped into the elevator. The die slid the doors shut with another metallic screech, the sound ringing in your ears uncomfortably the entire time.

 

A large array of buttons before you, the numbers scratched off or replaced with name. Above the rest sat a button on its lonesome and the plaque next to it carved with a single “D”. Without hesitation, the man pressed the top button, and the elevator rumbled as it came to life.

 

With a loud scrape, the hall soon began to disappear as the two of you rose to your destination.

 

Silence fell between the two of you once again, leaving the scrapes and rumbles of the elevator to fill the air.

 

A few seconds pass and you find yourself slowly trailing your stare towards the die next to you, eager to ignore the giant snake head behind you and a tiny bit curious of who he was.

 

He, like many of the other inhabitants of the island, towered over you; forcing you to look up at him in order to be heard. His deep purple suit jacket hugged his shoulders nicely, showing off broad shoulders and a rectangular build; coupled with the overall dapper clothes he wore, the die looked like the spitting image of the ideal rich business man.

 

Topped off with a thin mustache and bottle green eyes that only highlighted his presence, it was safe to say that this man was likely someone important here.

 

The die suddenly turned towards you, his brow raised and his eyes lidded in annoyance. You jumped as he let out a sigh, embarrassed that you got caught eyeing him.

 

“Since I have your attention,” his deep voice echoed off the elevator walls and filled your ears. “Are you going to hold up your end of the deal?”

 

You blink dumbly for moment before realization settled in, turning your face red. Well, you did promise that you would explain why, and it's not like anyone is going to find out about the whole mess…

 

“O-oh, yes, of course,” you cough as you looked off to the side. “Well you see, sir-”  
  
“Dice. King Dice.”

 

“....King Dice, I may have ah, done something to... _offend_ the Devil.”

 

That got a scoff and eye roll out of the die, and he briskly crossed his arms as he stared holes into the side of your head. He didn’t say a word, but judging from the frown out of the corner of your eye, he wasn’t happy with what he got.

 

“....Like?” King Dice curtly asked, his brow furrowed further in impatience.

 

You can feel a nervous laugh threatening to burst out as the elevator grew much warmer. A very frantic smile formed on your face.

 

“Well- It’s a funny story, actually. What had happened was-” you could feel your shoulders tense up tightly, your muscles ready to burst like a pressed spring.  
  
“I don’t have all day, doll.” the die spat, eyes bright with barely contained anger.

 

“ _IPULLEDHISTAIL.”_

 

Just like that, the two of you were silent again. And just like that, you were as red as a fire hydrant again.  Out of the corner of your eye, King Dice’s form suddenly grew still, his eyes wide. You see him bite down on his lip, his cheeks puffed up for a moment and he sharply took in a few breaths from his nose.

 

“Do you care to repeat that, d-doll?” his voice skips slightly at the end and he tightens his grip on his arms as he stared down at you. A small smile broke out on his face and his shoulders trembled slightly.

 

Something tells you he was laughing at you.

 

“I-I,” your voice cracked pathetically. “I-I pulled his tail, I didn’t know and h-he, he…”

 

You can already hear the Devil’s deep groans, his labored breathing, the loud splitting crack of bark being torn off the tree he desperately grasped. And those eyes he made...

 

With your face promptly shoved into your hands, you let out a muffled shriek.

 

A snort went off before King Dice let out a loud laugh, the sound booming loudly in the walls of the elevator. You peeked out of your hands to see the taller man grab onto the wall, a hand on his knee as he let out a loud howl of laughter; his eyes tightly closed and tears beginning to form.

 

He sucked in deep breaths as he wiped away a stray tear, his stark-white cheeks tinted pink from how hard he laughed. The die gave you a pitying grin, his shoulders still shaking.

 

“Oh, _doll_. Do you have any idea what you did the poor guy?” he snorted as he stared at down you. You find yourself burying your face deeper into your hands and you let out a mortified groan.

 

King Dice shakily inhaled as he shook his head, another bout of laughter threatening to break out. He turned his body towards you and placed a large hand onto your shoulder, causing you to look up.

  
His grin trembled as he choked back another laugh, his hand tightly squeezing your shoulder.

 

“J-Just a general tip, doll,” he coughed. “Demons have a weird little… _system_ ,when it comes to courtin’..”

 

With that, he gave your shoulder a few firm pats. Before you could even open your mouth, the elevator bell let out a loud ding, signaling that you’ve finally reached your destination. The die looked up for a brief moment, the smile on his face fading when he was greeted by the now familiar hall.

 

He turns back to you, his smile taking on a more heavier tone as he offered up his arm once more.

 

“It’s showtime, doll.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Was it weird to have a less than innocent dream about your enemy? Was it weird to accidentally have them multiple times in a row? Then proceed to let out a roar loud enough to rattle the foundations of Hell?

 

Of course not. Because the Devil never had those dreams nor did he end up waking up to Dice loudly pounding on his door to get him to shut up. Because that never happened, no sirree.

 

He just wanted to be left alone for a bit. Was that too much to ask for? So he may have kept to himself for a week now, but what's the big deal? He’s been getting some work done and hasn’t destroyed anything just yet (in fact, it's been a whole week since he broke something. It’s a new record.), so why was Dice on his case so much recently?

 

The Devil leaned back into his office chair, the wood creaking under his weight. He doesn’t know long he’d been staring at the same document for, the words unable to stick in his sleep-deprived brain no matter how hard he tried. Clicking his tongue, the demon glances over to the small pile of paperwork he completed, then to the mountain of unfinished work.

 

Funny. This is was probably the most desk work he’s done in a while.

 

He grunts and shoves aside the document, knocking over the pile of unfinished work onto the floor with a thump. Papers quickly scattered all over the floor, leaving a huge mess in its wake.

 

Though the Devil couldn’t find it in himself to care as he planted his face into the desk with a groan, the rough cracks from a week before pricking his skin.

 

Well wasn’t everything just fine and dandy? Not only did the angel embarrass him and win his minions over, but now she just HAD to accidentally grope him. Sure, it was innocent enough on her side of the scuffle, but oh how little did she know of the implications behind her actions.

 

He groaned and rubbed his temples, already tempted to open his desk drawers to fish for a cigar.

 

The imps were hesitant to do any funny business around him shortly after, which helped dull the pain of his wounded pride for the most part. But soon he heard the whispers and growls from those treacherous little brats, how they were wondering how the _boss’ girl_ has been doing.

 

The demon let out a long, low groan as he thumped his head against his desk.

 

With one innocent little mistake, he and the angel were now officially an item in the eyes of his imps and any other demon who’s heard the news.

  
Given how those little mooks didn’t put much thought when it came to things outside of what they know, they ended up interpreting the whole conflict as a lover’s quarrel. Oh, the things he ended up hearing whenever he set foot outside his office:

 

“ _She pulled the boss’s tail, you saw it for yourself! You only do that when you’re going steady with someone!”_  
_  
_ “ _It was real sweet of the boss’s gal to help us out back there. Standing up to her man like that must’ve taken a lot of guts!_ ”

 _  
_ _“Honestly if the birdy and boss have been seeing each other for a while, the boss’s stick-up-the ass attitude makes plenty of sense! They probably just got into a fight and he didn’t wanna say sorry-”_

 

And so on and so forth.

 

Sharp claws dug into the sides of his head and the demon let out a frustrated growl. Why did this happened to him of all people? First the bust, now he was supposedly canoodling with the angel in his imps’ eyes; golly gee _fucking_ whiz, what else could go wrong for him?

 

“Boss?” the muffled voice of his right hand man snapped him out of his thoughts, causing the Devil peel his face off his desk. “You got someone who wants to talk to you.”

 

Perfect. Just perfect.

 

The Devil let out a groan loud enough for Dice to hear, causing the die let out a sigh. He drags a clawed hand down the back of his head, trying to maintain some composure, lest he wanted to deal with the die’s bitching later.  
  
He swivels the chair around, his back to the door as he began to rub his temples. The last thing the Devil wanted to deal with some schmuck annoying him.

 

“Tell them they can go shove it-”  
  
“ _Boss,_ ” the die cuts him off, his voice curt and chastising. “You have a little lady who’s been looking for you. Saying she’s been wanting to see you.”

 

The demon didn’t miss the underlying hint of teasing in there, which got his ears to perk up in some intrigue.

 

“She’s awfully pretty, too” the die practically sang as he stood outside the door, and the Devil could just see the smug smile on his pale face right now. “It’d be awfully _rude_ to keep a dame alone and waiting when she just wants to have a little fun-”

 

“Really trying to sweeten up the offer, huh, Dice?” the Devil chuckled, his brow twitching slightly as he clenched down on his teeth. He really wasn’t in the fucking mood for this shit.

 

Something clicked onto the tiled floors, followed by a deep chuckled from Dice as the clicks approached the door. Before he could get a word in a few gentle knocks echoed throughout his dark office, followed by the same voice he’s been trying to get out of his head for a week now.

 

“H-hello? Mr. Devil?” the angel’s timid and unsure voice was muffled by the heavy door, but it still was enough to force him up from his chair. He turned to the door, his nose scrunched from the ugly scowl on his face.

 

“May I come-”

 

“No.” He can already feel his face become red as he heard the snort from his right-hand man through the door; the die utterly amused at how quick the demon was to respond.

 

A small smack was heard through the door, followed by a tiny “don’t make fun!” as the angel huffed. She knocked once more, a bit more firmly this time.

 

“Sir, I want to talk to you-”

 

“That ain’t going to happen.” he stepped towards the door, his hands itching to tear into something from irritated he was.

 

“I’m trying to talk to you-”  
  
“And I ain’t listening!” the Devil practically spat.

 

She lets out a groan, knocking on the door more firmly. Why can’t she go away and leave him alone for once! She’s already humiliated him enough as is!

 

He could feel the urge to tear something grow worse as he approached the door, teeth grinding against each other as his hands twitched. When he doesn’t respond, the angel knocked harder on the door; practically pounding on the wood.

 

“ _Will you just!-_ ”

Before the angel had the chance to finish her exasperated shout, the door swung open; the Devil now revealed before her. He was absolutely fuming at this point, his fur standing on end as his pupils shrunk down to the size of pinpricks.

 

The moment he saw white enter his vision, the Devil didn’t hold back. Without hesitation, the demon swung a clawed hand forward with every ounce of anger in his body.

 

Time seemed to slow down at that moment. Dice’s face had melted into a shout, his eyes wide as he stepped forward; the angel’s wide eyed look of shock when he slammed open the door. Then it all came crashing down the moment angel swung her basket forward, her eyes squeezed shut and her shoulders tensed.

 

Said basket was obliterated upon impact, the wicker immediately torn to pieces thanks to the deep slash of the Devil’s claws. Bits and pieces of yellow and pink fell to the tiled floor, the blanket in her tiny basket fluttering to the ground.

 

The smell of sugar and chocolate filled the Devil’s nose, snapping him out of his rage-filled state to see the remains of cookies all over the floor; the crumbs scattered across the floor in a mess. Labored breathing filled his ears, and he was soon met with the angel’s red face and shiny eyes.

 

“...I was trying to apologize to you, you _jerk_ ” her insult wobbled slightly as she coughed, tears running down her face as she shot him a glare hot enough to burn his skin.

 

“I-I had trouble sleeping for a w-week. Because I felt _bad_ ” her voice fell as she coughed once more. She raised a hand to her face, wiping the few stray tears that begun to fall down her cheeks.

 

All the Devil could do was stand there, eyes wide and confused as the angel went on.

 

“I didn’t mean for any of this happen. Do you think I **want** to be stuck here?! On a couple of islands remembering little to nothing about me or how to get home?”

 

Snot began to dribble down her nose and her face was beginning to become blotchy from crying. The Devil stood silent as she continued, stunned.

 

“Believe me, I want to! But I can’t-” her voice stopped short as she let out an ugly sob, her wings folded tightly against her form. She shakes her head, her hair falling onto her cheeks.

 

“I just wanted to apologize to you,” she repeated, her voice much more quieter. “Because, for whatever stupid reason I had, I thought we could maybe bury the hatchet. Heck, you’ could’ve maybe helped me!”

 

She stomped a heel into the floor, the tile letting out a slam that echoed loudly in the hall.

 

The smaller woman shook her head, closing her eyes as her mouth fell closed.

 

“Mr. Dice, can you please take me back. I would like to leave now.”

 

The Devil had forgotten his right-hand man was still here with them and from the looks of it, the die had been just as focused on the angel as he was. Dice glanced over to his boss, giving the man one final look before grabbing the angel by the shoulder and leading her down the hall.

 

As he watched the two fade out from view, the Devil wondered why his chest felt so tight .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swore I meant to make this happier but I just started typing and everything went downhill.
> 
> (Comments and Criticisms are welcome!)

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the fact that this is so short, I'm still a bit unclear what to do but boy howdy I plan on getting you to smooch the devil if it's the last thing I do.
> 
> (Father above I'm so sorry)


End file.
